


Stumbling Through the Dark

by Dellessa



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindness, Bondage, Dubious Consent, Forced Bonding, M/M, Mech Preg, Non-Consensual, Psychological Torture, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex, Tentacles, Torture, hobbling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt(s): Throne. This originally started as a drabble from December Drabbles. Jeegoo requested I extrapolate on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jeegoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeegoo/gifts).



Optimus scowled up at the tyrant before him. Megatron was draped across his throne looking far too pleased with the turn of events. The tide of the war had turned fast, so fast many of the Autobots had not seemed to even understand the war was still an issue. Megatron had been sentenced to imprisonment, only he had not stayed there long.

Blitzwing pushed the Autobot forward, towards the throne, Optimus stumbled, falling to his knees, barely catching his balance before his face-plates connected to the floor. The flier grabbed the handcuffs where Optimus’ arms were bound behind his back. 

“What, speechless, Optimus?” Megatron chuckled, leaning forward until he grabbed Optimus’ chin and forced him to look up. Megatron’s lips curled into an amused smile. “And even now you are not broken.” Megatron could not help but have a grudging respect for the bot. He had tried, and had certainly held up longer than the other Primes, then the Magnus.

Optimus for his part tried to put up a brave front, he tried to be strong. Still, deep in his spark he was terrified. He wasn’t ready to die yet.

Megatron laughed again, it was a guttural sound that made the young Autobot shiver, with fear, and something else he didn’t care to put a name to. “Take him to my chambers.” Megatron addressed Blitzwing.

The words did not compute in Optimus’ processor at first. Not until he found himself bodily lifted.

“No.” He finally managed to get out. “No, you can’t.”

Megatron just laughed. “I can, and I will. You forget who is in charge here. I will remind you.” The Decepticon leader smirked as if he relished the thought. 

“You are a monster,” Optimus yelled, squirming in Blitzwing’s hold. He wriggled and yelled, but the triple-changer’s grip was like an iron band, unyielding. 

“Vat is your problem, Autobrat?” Blitzwing laughed as he finally flung Optimus over his shoulder like a bag of energon chips. 

“Let me go,” he wanted to howl and scream but it would not do him any good. 

“I vill not do that,” Blitzwing cackled, “Lord Megatron vould not appreciate me losing you. Und I can’t say I blame him,” he patted Optimus’ aft making the truckbot squeak in distress. “Such a hot aft. I bet he pounds you right into the berth.” 

A whine escaped Optimus’ vocal processor, “Stop it. Stop talking like that,” his faceplates flushed hot, burning against the cool air of the warship. 

“Vat, the leetle Autovot doesn’t vant to hear what Lord Megatron will do to you?” he laughed as he finally stopped at a large door, and palmed the keypad. The door slid open and Blitzwing stepped inside. The room was dark, and Optimus could not see around Blitzwing’s bulk. 

“No I don’t,” he yelled as he was dropped down onto a massive berth. his vents came in fast pants, and he tried to roll away. Blitzwing pinned him down, removing the cuffs. Optimus fought him in earnest. Flailing and screaming as the triple changer tried to chain his limbs to each corner of the berth. 

Optimus kicked out as his arms were bound. Blitzwing took the opportunity to grope his chassis, fingers skittering over Optimus’ interface panel. 

Blitzwing laughed at the little Prime’s distress and finally bound his legs to the berth’s frame as well. He stood there smirking, admiring his own work, and the way Optimus fought against the bonds in vain. 

He was still laughing when he stepped out the door, and flipped off the light leaving Optimus in darkness.

The room was inky black, and left Optimus feeling claustrophobic. His optics were the only light in the room, and the did little to illuminate the area. It made time stretch out, ticking by infinitely slow. 

He pulled at his bonds, spark thumping. It seemed like an eternity passed, and all he could think about was what Megatron was going to do when he finally came into the berthroom. It was a terrifying thought to Optimus. He had...never done That. Had never really even considered interfacing. It wasn’t exactly encouraged in the guard. 

He only had a vague sense of what IT even was. He wiggled, feeling his core temperature rise from his distress. He offlined his optics and forced himself to vent slowly. There had to be some way out of here. He just had to stay calm. 

The door finally slid open, and light flooded in for a moment before it was eclipsed. Optimus could not help the tremor of terror as figure in the door just stood there, crimson optics glowing like embers in the dim light. The lights came on, making Optimus’ vision white out for a moment in the suddenness of the change. 

Megatron moved farther into the room his optics fixed on the Autobot sprawled across his berth. His engine revved loudly, startling Optimus. 

Megatron’s lips curled up slowly into a pleased smiled, “Comfortable?” 

Optimus gaped at him, “W-what?” 

“You look nice like that. Perhaps I will keep you this way,” Megatron laughed. The rich sound trickled down Optimus’ spinal strut making his fan kick up another notch, practically roaring. “The medic that brought you in told me something...interesting.” His lips curled back into a grin, fangs peeking out, and his gaze turned...hungry. “Do you know what that was?” 

Optimus squirmed, “No.” 

Megatron purred, “They said you were still sealed. Imagine my surprise.” 

Optimus’ optics paled in the bright light, “Primus forbids such things.” 

“Mmmmm...is that what they tell you these days? I will educate you in the truth, I think. Take your seals?” He move closer, claws reached out and touched Optimus’ leg. They lingered on the inside seam, and dipped into the space there.

“It is past time I take a consort and produce an heir,” Megatron continued. He ignored the gasp that escaped Optimus’ vocalizer. “You are perfect for that. A warrior worthy of carrying one of my sparks.” 

Megatron seemed pleased, “Yes, you will do.” His hand drifted up to Optimus’ interface panel. His claws danced over it, teasing until Optimus thought he would go mad. He stubbornly kept the panel shut. His resolve completely dissolving when Megatron dipped his head down, tracing the seams with his glossa.

Optimus squealed, and tried to wiggle away, but he was bound tight. The warbuild chuckled, the vibration pulsing against the smaller mech’s interface panel. “Stop it!” Optimus pleaded, moaning. He didn’t want this. He could still feel the heat rising in his chassis. It felt as though he was burning from the inside out. Delirious. 

He overrode the command to open his interface panel, but even he could tell that it was a losing battle. Megatron hit a particularly sensitive spot and the panel snicked open, leaving him bare. Exposed. 

Cool air ghosted over his components, he had barely uncovered them before. Only to clean them, and it had always left him feeling uncomfortable. Megatron’s optics on his bared equipment made him equally uneasy. 

“No..please,” he cried out when Megatron parted the protective folds of his valve. He felt his cheekplates warm in humiliation. It only became worse as the mech’s glossa lapped the seal, tracing the edges of the rim, and finally sucked on the anterior node. The latter sent Optimus arching up, a scream escaped his vocalizer before he could stop it. He wasn’t prepared for the pleasure that raced through his systems. 

Megatron chuckled, “You say that now, but I will make it good for you.” His claws traced over the same path that his glossa had earlier. “I won’t promise there won’t be pain though,” he said, pushing one claw through the film. 

Optimus yelped in surprise, struggling anew against the bonds. Megatron paid him little mind as her removed the rest of the film just as quickly. It hurt. Stung in ways Optimus had never imagined. 

“Shhhh...it will be better soon,” Megatron purred, moving over Optimus’ chassis, fiddling with the locks on his sparkplates. 

Optimus moaned, “No. No you can’t. I won’t let you have that as well.” 

“You will have little choice in the matter,” Megatron said popping the locks easily, and finding the manual override with adept claws. “You are mine to take,” he said, optics dim as he pushed away the protective plates hiding away Optimus’ spark. The last plate slid away, revealing the frantically pulsing orb. “Beautiful,” Megatron said, his tone possessive. He reached out for it, humming thoughtfully at the way the tendrils reached out, caressing his claws. 

Optimus moaned in despair as he hear the click of Megatron’s equipment, and was soon bathed in the red light of Megatron’s own spark. The orb was brilliant and his own spark reached out for it instinctively. Whatever his processor thought of the matter his body thought something else entirely. Megatron lined up his spike, pushing in through Optimus’ valve as he pressed their chests together. 

Optimus was lost, unable to escape the sensation or even fight back as Megatron claimed his chassis. The charge grew until Optimus was tumbled over in the wave. As it crested the charge built again. Megatron languidly teasing him until he was finally pushed offline.

OoOoOoOo

Optimus awoke to an aching frame. The room around him was dark and a mesh was tucked around his chassis. He sat up, grimacing at the soreness of his valve, and his spark. It was a pulsing ache. His plating was clean, free of the scuffs that he knew he had incurred the sol before when Megatron...

He couldn’t think of that. It left his tank rumbling with unease. Best not think of it. Think of anything but THAT. He looked around the room and took stock of his surroundings. It was a depressingly bare room. No weapons, and little that could be fashioned as such. 

His spark gave another pained pulse. Painful enough to make him double over. He felt a pulse of concern that was not his own, and was even more alarmed as he curled into a ball on the berth. He was delirious with the pain as the door slid open and Megatron strode inside. 

The large mech sat on the side of the berth and pressed Optimus’ back against it. He touched Optimus’ sparkplates and they snapped open as if on command. “Noooo...please no.” 

Megatron’s spark was bared again and pressed against his own. To Optimus’ surprise it did dull the ache, and left him uncomfortably aware of Megatron’s presence pushing away his firewalls as if they did not exist at all. Any relief he would have had was short lived. 

Megatron was everywhere, enveloping him and he felt as though he was burning away. He struggled against it, trying to push the mech from his processor and spark, but it felt like he was ripping at a piece of himself. He was brought back to himself as he felt Megatron’s spike pushing into him, spreading him wide. 

“Just give in, Optimus, you are already mine,” Megatron growled into his audial. 

“Never, never---” Their sparks ground together with each thrust. It left Optimus clinging for any purchase he could find, digging into Megatron’s armor enough to warp it. “I’ll never be yours,” he cried even as he was pushed into an overload, electricity lapping at their armour. 

“Too late, Optimus. Too late.” Transfluid hit the innermost nodes of Optimus’ oversensitized valve, dragging him down with Megatron. Somehow, this time he managed to stay online. He fell against the berth, strutless and trapped by the larger mech’s chassis. 

He didn’t move when Megatron finally rolled off of him. He could still feel Megatron, the roll of his emotions. They pushed through his firewalls as if they were not there, clouding Optimus’ processor. 

“I will never give in to you,” Optimus mumbled, lethargically trying to roll away. 

Megatron held him down where he was, his ruby optics narrowed. “I want you to fight. It’s what appeals to me.”

Optimus trembled for a moment, a harsh cry leaving his vocalized before he launched himself at Megatron, rage made him blind and reckless. 

Megatron laughed, twisting out of Optimus grasp, he pushed Optimus off balance, pinning him facedown to the berth. Optimus struggled and screamed, thrashing until stasis cuffs snapped into place. 

Finally he sagged against the berth, panting. 

Megatron hummed appreciatively, “Exactly what I mean, full of fire. If our sparklings have only half that fire.” 

“I’ll kill you before I ever bear your spawn.” 

“To kill me is to kill yourself. You will bear them, and you will love them even if you never feel that emotion for me. And perhaps I will settle for merely taming you. Perhaps.” 

“Never,” Optimus moaned. 

“You keep saying that, but I’ve already won.” He pushed Optimus’ chest down, pulling his hips up, he rearranged Optimus’ limbs until he seemed pleased with himself. “I can take you anytime I please, anywhere I please,” Megatron rumbled. 

One clawed finger pushed into his already slick valve. “You are mine,” Megatron murmured, pumping the sharp digit slowly until he heard Optimus’ ventilations catch. 

He added a second stretching him wide, “And eventually you will beg for it.” 

“I--I---please don’t,” He gasped, feeling the blunt head line up and push inside. 

Megatron purred behind him, snapping his hips forward and impale Optimus completely, grinding their arrays together. He pulled out to the tip, slamming back in over and over until, Optimus was crying beneath him, incoherent and begging. 

Optimus gripped the mesh beneath him, as lubricant dripped from his optics. Megatron pounded into him until Optimus’ valve clenched hard, spasming around him and finally pushing them both over the precipice. 

They fell together, Optimus too weak and strutless when Megatron rolled over and pulled him into his arms. His spark pulsed against Optimus’ backplates, and Optimus’ spark reached out for it, comforted by the presence of his bondmate in a way that disturbed his processor. 

He could not wiggle out of Megatron’s grip no matter how much he wanted too, and eventually was lulled to recharge.

OoOoOoOo

Optimus came online slowly, his processor still muzy from the sol before. His plating felt clean again, as if Megatron had taken the pains to take him to the washrack. It was an uncomfortable feeling, not knowing what the warbuild did to his frame while he was in recharge.

He went to online his optics, but was alarmed when he could not. He tried to over and over, becoming panicked as they did not respond. He raised a shaking hand to his faceplates, and to his horror found a band across his optics, a blocker. He tugged at it, whimpering when it did not budge. 

“Do not bother, it will not come off,” A voice rumbled. “It is magnalocked in place. Only Hook, or I can remove it. It blocks that entire sensor suite. You can try to override it, but I can guarantee it will not work, my mate.” 

Optimus turned to the direction the voice came in, “Why are you doing this to me?” 

“You need to learn to trust me. To depend on me, and you will. I will not remove that until you do. You will not be able to do anything without my assistance.” 

Optimus trembled, nothing he needed to move about was accessible, even his mapping programs were offlined. It was terrifying. 

“I imagine you are ready to refuel,” Megatron said, the air shifting against Opimus’ plating as the large mech move closer. “Let us remedy that at least.” 

Optimus expected a cube to be pressed into his hands, instead a gelled energon was pressed to his lips. It was tempting to bite the mech that offered it, but the rumbling of his tank made him reconsider that thought. He opened his mouth, whimpering as Megatron stroked his glossa as it moved out. It was humiliating. 

He didn’t protest when the next was offered, afraid that this too would be taken away. Megatron continued feeding him until his tank was full. It still fluttered with his frayed nerves, but it miraculously stayed down. He did not want to imagine what Megatron would do if he purged his tanks. 

“Come, I have things to attend to.” 

Optimus was surprised when his hand was grabbed and he was taken along with Megatron wherever they were going. He could not keep track with all of the twists and turns they made. The room they arrived at was large, he imagined, from the echo of their peds across the floor. He was sure they were in Megatron’s audience chamber, it was one of the few rooms he had been in that was that open. 

Megatron finally stopped, and gently pushed Optimus, “Sit.” The smaller mech fumbled, finding a large mesh pillow on the floor beside what he could only assume was Megatron’s throne. He held onto the arm of the throne, venting loudly as he tried not to panic. 

He could hear peds shuffling closer, and Megatron taking his seat finally. The warbuild’s hand reached out, caressing Optimus’ earfins. 

“Shockwave, you may approach,” Megatron said, and Optimus turned his blind gaze to the should of approaching steps. 

“My lord,” the voice shot through Optimus, feeling him with dread. He still had trouble reconciling the fact that Longarm had been a traitor. The worst of traitors. “I have served you faithfully.” 

“None could argue that.” 

Optimus could, but he sat in silence as if he had been robbed of his vocalizer as well as his sight. 

“I have never asked for any reward for my loyal service,” Shockwave continued. 

“No, you have not. Get to the point, Shockwave.” 

“I would like to have the two minibots we captured.” 

“Is that all?” Megatron’s laughter rumbled through Optimus as what Shockwave was asking for sunk in. 

“No, you can’t. You can’t let him have Bumblebee or Blurr,” Optimus blurted out, cringing at the warning rumble that emanated from Megatron. 

“You may take possession of them,” the warlord said as if Optimus had never spoken. “Do not offline them, we need all of the bots we can get. Our population is too low.” 

“Of course, my lord,” there was no mistaking the glee in the mechs voice. 

Optimus lurched forward with a growl, he barely got a step before Megatron’s hands clasped about his chassis and he was pulled into the warlords lap. He struggled for a moment, his fans kicking on high in his agitation. 

Megatron held him there easily, the rest of the audience passing in a blur to Optimus. He was half-way to recharge when Megatron picked him up, carrying him back to his berthroom. Optimus hung limply, his spark already pained and begging for another merge. he refused to voice it, wanting nothing to do with Megatron, and even less so given what had happen. He had never felt so helpless in his entire functioning. 

Megatron petted his plating as they walked through the hallways, like he was some tamed cyberfox. He shivered at the thought. Maybe that was what the warlord was turning him into. A broken and tamed creature. He wouldn't have it. 

He clenched his jaw suddenly, steeling himself against the molestation he knew would come once they reached the warlord’s berth room. It did not come. He was sat upon the berth and Megatron left him there, crossing the room to fetch something. Optimus strained his audial sensors trying to discern what the mech was doing. 

“This should keep you occupied during audiences,” the warlord said as he pushed a strange datapad into Optimus’ hands.

“I don’t understand, what is this? I---I can’t read like this.” He trembled in spite of himself. he had tried not to think of this aspect of it. 

“You can, I will give you the download for Amblinese, it is the language of the miners. I was lucky enough to get out of the mines before it claimed my sight as well, but not many mechs created there were so lucky. Many were even born without sight. It is a difficult thing, as you can imagine now.” 

Megatron grabbed Optimus’ arm, uncovering the medical port there, and plugged in before Optimus could put up more than a token protest. 

Optimus froze. He had seen this code before, during Elite guard training. They had assumed it was a code, but one that they could not decipher. What they had never believed it to be was what it was, a language separate from Cybertronian. 

They could have won the war with this simple download. Optimus shook as the programming settled in place, his hand moving to the datapad, dots raising as he ran his hand across it. It was a simple language, but elegantly so. He could appreciate that. Long before he had gone to Elite guard training he had worked in data processing, taking care of the datapads and streams of information. It was the caste he had been born into, and one he had not thought he would ever leave. 

“There are more pads here, if you want others you will let me know,” Megatron said, his approval pulsing through the bond as he pulled the jack out.

Optimus vented, as his hand brushed over the pad to the end, and brushed the key at the end that would activate the next set of glyphs. It was a very clever design, he could admit that, as much as it pained him to do so. 

“I have datapads on our culture and traditions, I expect you to read through them eventually. They are things our sparklings will need to know.” 

Optimus looked up blindly, not bothering to hide his grimace. “You keep saying it like it is a foregone conclusion. Do you really think I will cooperate after all you have done to me?”

Megatron laughed, “Isn’t it?” 

Optimus was quiet, he did not know how to answer that.

OoOoOoOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amblinese-  
> Like braille it is a language of touch created by the miner’s of Kaon. Most miner's are blind, some even born so. It was used as code by the Decepticons. It is a series of dots, symbols and dashes, undecipherable by the Autobots because it does not correlate to any known Cybertronian known language. Special pads are use to make 'books' with it, symbols become raised so that a mech can run a hand across the pad and read the text.


	2. Chapter 2

Optimus was still halfway in recharge when Megatron got up. He moved about the room, doing what Optimus could not tell. 

“Get up Optimus, I need to leave you with Shockwave. There has been an assault on Chaar, and that must be taken care of before we can finish the journey to Cybertron.” 

Optimus tried to puzzle out what Megatron meant, his processor still muzzy. Megatron did not wait for him to get his wits about him, instead he picked the sightless mech up and held him tight to his chest. “You will behave for Shockwave.”

“You act as though I am a naughty Sparkling,” Optimus heaved a long suffering sigh. 

“You act like one far too often,” Megatron said as he moved towards the door. 

“You have taken away my sight and are holding me prisoner, what else do you expect?” 

“You are my bondmate. You cannot expect me to let you go, be reasonable.” 

Optimus opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. They had this argument at least once a day. It never did any good. The warlord simply could not see the error of his ways.

OoOoOoOo

Shockwave watched his lord bring the Autobot into his rooms, barely keeping his annoyance out of his field. The creature was clearly not worthy, but there was no telling Lord Megatron that.

The large mech pushed a datapad into Shockwave’s hand, and pulled out a stack of Amblinese datapads that were also pushed into Shockwave’s waiting claws. “The first has his feeding schedule, don’t give him a cube, I brought enough gelled energon for him until I get back. Do not let him feed himself.”

“As you wish, Lord Megatron.” 

The Autobot was lowered onto the couch, and looked around sightlessly. As soon as Megatron moved away his two pets rushed to the blind mech’s side, curling against him as if for protection or comfort. He could only hear snippets of conversation between them. He still found it worrying. He did not need this mech messing up their training. He had only had them three deca-cycles, but they were already responding well to the training, and the programming edits had finally settled into place. 

They seemed happy sidling up to the blinded mech. It was annoying, but he kept his reaction in check. Megatron would not appreciate such attitudes. It was still all he could do to hold back the growl as he watched Megatron’s bot carefully touching his pets everywhere as if hunting for injuries. That was probably exactly what he was doing. 

He smothered the growl that tried to escape his vocalizer, and showed Megatron the way out. “Good luck, My Lord.” 

“Luck has nothing to do with it, Shockwave.” 

The door shut behind the large mech and Shockwave was left alone with his lord’s bondmate, if one could call him that. He wished his lord had found somebot more worthy that this one. Unfortunately that could not be changed. Not now in any case. 

He scrolled through the feeding schedule, shaking his head. Megatron’s training methods were odd, but surprisingly effective. 

“Blurr, come here,” Shockwave said, his single optic intent on the blue mech. 

“Hey, why don’t you pick me,” Bumblebee said, scrambling off the couch where he had perched beside the consort. He moved in front of Blurr, as if he could shield the blue mech. “Com’on. Don’t you want me?” 

Shockwave narrowed his single optic, “You will sit with the consort, and not interfere.” 

Bumblebee made a whining noise. “But...” 

“Do you want to spend the rest of the sol in your cage?” 

Bumblebee moved away, clearly pouting as he climbed back up and curled against the consort, he sent Shockwave a surly look but that was to be expected. 

“Blurr.” 

“I’m sorry, Master,” the blue mech sank to his peds, kneeling. His normally fast speech slowed down considerably by the programming. He clasped his hands together, trying not to twitch as he waited for Shockwave’s orders. If it was possible Shockwave would have smiled gleefully. Instead he walked around Blurr, inspecting him. He reached out tweaking the mech’s helmfin, eliciting the most delightful squeak. 

“Such a good pet,” Shockwave murmured, “Get on the bench,” he ordered, optic half lidded as Blurr climbed up onto it, moving on his hands and knees as he had been taught. 

Shockwave strapped down the cuffs around the small mech’s wrists, around his legs and ankles. He caressed the small frame, ignoring Bumblebee’s plaintive whine from across the room. He gave his other pet a sharp look, and finally the whining subsided. 

He turned his attention back to Blurr, his hand reaching out to dip into a seam, skating across plating until the mech’s fans ratched up. 

“So good, so perfect, now open up for me,” He hummed, caressing Blurr’s interface panel. It snapped open at the first touch, revealing a dripping valve. His claws dipped in between the slick folds, moving in and out eliciting a moan from the blue mech. His claws moved away caressing the plug where the mech’s spike had once resided. It was the first thing he had removed from their frames, no self-respecting Decepticon would ever let themselves be spiked, and certainly not by a pet. 

His hand moved up, resting on the panel covering his pet’s waste port, “Open.” That elicited a loud whine, “Open, Blurr, I will gag you if you continue to resist.” 

The panel finally snapped open, and Shockwave turned away, opening the cabinet where the toys were kept. He looked through the selection, picking out one of the larger plugs and an equally large false-spike before turning back to Blurr. He was such a good pet. He had never shifted on his servos and knee-plates. He did shiver when Shockwave returned. 

“You will not overload unless I tell you to, do you understand?” 

Blurr whined, hands clenching against the black metal of the bench. 

“Blurr, do you understand?” 

“Yes,” the little bot moaned. 

“Yes what?”

“YesmasterpleasepleasepleaseIneed---” 

“Blurr,” Shockwave snapped, “We’ve discussed this.” 

The blue mech whimpered then, “Slow down.” 

“Yes. You are not going to get anything you want if you continue to behave in that matter, in fact, you will be punished.” Shockwave pronounced, pushing the plug into Blurr’s valve to wet it. The action elicited another whimper, which Shockwave ignored. He was too new in his training to push him too hard. He pumped it in several times before he was satisfied that it was slick enough, and finally removed it. 

“Blurr, do you know I wanted you since I first sat my optics on you? Some days it was all I could do not to bend you over my desk and have my way with you.” He finally moved the plug up, pressing the slick metal against Blurr’s waste-port. There was little give at first, then it finally spiralled open, leaving Blurr venting hard as it was finally pushed into place. The tight ring contracting against the most narrow part of the plug. “Such a good mech.” 

Shockwave gave him no time to recover before beginning to stretch Blurr’s valve. Nimble claws dipped between the fold, first one and then two, stretching him enough that the little mech would not be injured, but there would still be an edge of pain to the penetration when he finally pushed the false spike in. Shockwave worked it in slowly, patient in this as he was everything else. When it was finally encased to the hilt he activated the magnets, and stepped away. 

“Perhaps I will leave you like this, it seems like you need a lesson in patience and how to obey your master.”

Blurr whimpered, “Please, Master, pleasedon’tleavemelikethis.” 

Shockwave moved around him, he cupped Blurr’s chin and forced him to look up, “Show me that you can be a good pet, and I will give you what you need.” He activated the vibrator in the false-spike, and watched the play of emotion on the little mech’s faceplates. “You are not allowed to overload. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yes?” 

“I--I won’t overload b-because t-that would be bad, and I-I’m not a bad pet.” 

Shockwave’s field flared, pushing against Blurr showing his approval before he turned back to where the consort and his other pet were. He gaped, a growl leaving his vocalizer as he watched the little yellow mech nuzzle the consort’s interface array, trying to get it to open. The consort pushed at him, huffing. “Leave me alone Bee, I don’t. Stop it.” 

He should have known better than to turn his attention away. He grabbed Bumblebee by his collar, hoisting the little mech up. He kicked and carried on like a wounded cybercat. 

“Let me go you glitch. Let me go. Fragging piece of slag.” 

Shockwave pulled the yellow mech across the room, pulling out a pair of stasis cuffs from the cabinet he whirled Bumblebee around slapping them on and letting the mech fall to the floor. The cursing did not abate, but he was not going to molest the consort any longer. 

He looked through the cabinet searching for a suitable punishment. His claws finally settling on the biggest fake-spike in the cabinet, and a charge ring. The top half of it was covered in thousands of little nodes that would send jolt of charge when they rubbed up against a mech’s sensors. He looked down at Bumblebee, and bent over the mech. “You have been beyond bad, this sol. I am so disappointed in you, Bumblebee.” 

He found the manual latch, pushing Bumblebee’s interface panel open. The mech was dripping. If anything that served to irritate Shockwave further. He pushed the spike in, not bothering to be gentle about it. He locked the false spike in place and settled the charge ring over it. 

Bumblebee squealed, “I’ll be better. I promise. Please. Shockwave.” 

“Too little, too late,” Shockwave said, standing and looking back into the cabinet. “You do not hear Blurr complaining, or making me take such lengths to punish him.” He picked up the waste port plugs one at a time, trying to decide which would be the best for the situation. He finally settled on one of the largest ones, a series of connected spheres. 

Bumblebee turned his helm, and squirmed at the sight of it. “Master, please. I just wanted to taste him.” 

“He is not yours or mine to take such liberties with,” Shockwave snapped. He knelt down, pushing open the yellow mech back panel, caressing his aft. “And even if he was...that is not your choice to make.” He smeared lubricant around the opening, and began to push it in with little care to Bumblebee’s comfort. He was sure it hurt, it was hard to miss the way the mech cried. 

He scanned Bumblebee to make sure there were no tears or injuries, before scooping him up and taking him to the cage they resided in when they could not behave themselves. Bumblebee begged and sobbed the whole way there, but Shockwave was not having any of it. 

Once Bumblebee was tucked away under his cooling blanket he made his way back into the common room to deal with the consort. The mech was trembling, one hand clutching the arm of the couch he was sitting on. 

“What did you do to Bumblebee? You are a monster. I know you hurt him. I---I---”

“It is past time for your feeding, consort. I suggest you get ahold of yourself.”

Optimus bristled, armour puffing out in threat. As blind as he was Shockwave couldn't fathom what damage the mech imagined he might inflict.

Shockwave retrieved the cube of gelled energon, pressing the first one against Optimus’ liplates. The mech lunged forward, biting down hard before Shockwave could snatch his claws away. 

Shockwave shrieked, pulling his servo away and jumping back from the creature. “If you were my pet I would remove those denta from your mouth.” 

“Luckily I am not,” Optimus snapped. 

Shockwave glared, knowing how very mad Megatron would be if he laid a hand on the consort. It was still tempting. 

“If you hurt Bumblebee I will find a way to hurt you, I swear to Primus. I will make you pay.” 

Shockwave did not deign to answer, he turned his attention back to Blurr, who had been silent the whole time. The only sound he made was the straining of his engine. He was the perfect pet. 

“I hate you,” Optimus declared from across the room. “I hate you and I will...I will bite your claws off next time you get near me.” 

Shockwave snorted, there was little chance he would make THAT mistake again. 

He turned his attention back to Blurr, tuning out the ranting consort. “Such a good mech,” he purred. “So well behaved. You deserved a reward, I think.” 

Blurr looked up hopefully, “P-please.” 

Shockwave let out a pleased hum, this he could work with. Blurr was running so hot it would not take much to push him over, and the heat closing about his spike was all too appealing. His claws tickled across Blurr’s backside, tracking around the stretched rim of Blurr’s valve. He released the lock pulling it out slowly before pumping it in again. Blurr cried out, and it was music to his audials.

OoOoOoOo

Megatron made his way to Shockwave’s habi-suite feeling pleased with himself. They had returned victorious, and with no casualties. More importantly they had captured one of the rogue teams of Autobots.

It made him purr to think of the surprise he had waiting for Optimus, he hoped his consort would see it as the gift that it was. 

“Shockwave, I take it that you had no issues?”

The spy-mech’s optic narrowed angrily, “My lord. He bit me. Not once but three times. Every time I tried to feed him.” 

Megatron laughed, his chosen mech had fire, it only made him smile that it was proven true. “But he is unharmed?”

“Do you think I would touch what was yours?”

“No Shockwave, I do not.” He was even more pleased to see Optimus sitting, waiting for him. 

“Megatron. I can’t believe you left me here. If I had my sight I would---I would---he is abusing Bumblebee and Blurr. I won’t stand for it.”

Megatron crossed the space between them, scooping Optimus up, rather than answering and starting an argument with the mech. “I have a surprise for you, I do not want to leave it...waiting.” 

Optimus hushed at that, a puzzled scowl inching across his features. Megatron could tell that Optimus was trying to think up an excuse to be mad. He didn’t not give him a chance, whisking him out of the room before Shockwave could make any more complaints. 

Optimus clung to him as they moved down the hallway. Megatron could feel the mech’s unease as they moved closer to his suite. 

“I don’t like surprises,” Optimus finally said sullenly. 

“I think you will like this one.” 

“I have yet to like anything you have given me,” Optimus snapped making Megatron chuckle. 

The door slid open smoothly, revealing the little Minor just as he had left him, collared and chained to the berth. 

“Fragging Con, let me go. I will rip out your spark, I will---what the slag---Optimus Prime---what---”

Optimus froze in Megatron’s arms, “Rodimus Minor---Roddi---I---I don't’ understand.” 

“He is my present to you. A pet for my consort.” 

Optimus struggled against him, engine roaring, “Let me go. You can’t make a pet out of----what is wrong with you?” 

“I can and I have. Would you rather I offline him instead?” 

Optimus’ engine stalled, “No. Please don’t do that.” 

Megatron sat him down on unsteady peds, leading him to the restrained Autobot. Megatron watched him fall to his kneeplates and reach for Rodimus. 

Realization slowly dawned on Rodimus’ faceplates, “What has he done to you?” 

Optimus didn’t answer, just leaned in, his fingers gliding over Rodimus’ plating checking for damage. He stopped at the collar welded around Rodimus’ neck plating, venting loudly in distress. 

“What is this?” 

“He is your pet, my spark, pets are collared.” 

Optimus’ armor puffed out, and he turned his sightless gaze back to Megatron, “Release him from this. I understand that you will never let me go, but please don’t do this. I will do anything...” 

“No, Optimus, it is either this or offlining. Unless you want me to give him to one of my soldiers...”

Optimus stiffened, grabbing onto Rodimus and holding onto him tightly. “No---I---thank you for the gift. I appreciate it.” 

Megatron watched in amusement, as Optimus’ grip tightened. Clearly he was scared that the gift in question would be taken away. 

“You are welcome, my consort. You know I only wish for your happiness.” Megatron’s lips curled up into a smirk as he felt Optimus’ conflicting emotions roll through their bond. “Perhaps we should break in your gift then?”

“I will do no such thing, he is a mech, not an object.” 

“If you do not want to join me, than perhaps I shall do it myself. I would not be nearly as gentle, though,” Megatron said, watching the play of emotions across Optimus’ faceplates. Horror washed through the bond, and a strong remembrance of when Optimus had been in that position. 

“I---no---I---I will.” 

“Mmmm....wonderful. I want to watch you take his seals,” Megatron purred. 

Rodimus watched the exchange with growing alarm, even more so when Megatron unlocked the chain from his collar. “On the berth,” Megatron barked at the red and orange mech. 

Rodimus did not move, his blue optics widened as he looked up at the warlord. 

“Now.” 

“Give us a moment, Megatron, please,” Optimus said. 

“I don’t like being kept waiting.” 

“I know, please just...” 

Megatron turned away, watching the pair out of the corner of his optic. Optimus rose on shaky peds, offering Rodimus his hand. The smaller mech took it, pulling Optimus close once he had risen to his peds. Clearly Rodimus was terrified, but he hid it well, pulling Optimus towards the berth. 

They crawled on the berth together, Optimus kissing the smaller mech awkwardly at first, then seemingly gaining confidence. It was, possibly, one of the hottest things Megatron had ever seen. Optimus’ arousal tickled through the bond, it was full of so many other emotions regret-sorrow-fear-pleasure that was a heady mix, leaving Megatron feeling half inebriated from the sheer power of it. 

He watched Optimus move down the mech’s chassis, touching every bit of the bot as if he was memorizing him by touch alone. Rodimus whimpered, squirming, he cried out when the blind mech reached his interface array. 

Rodimus whined, his plate snapping open for Optimus. Megatron moved closer, watching the way his bondmate nipped and sucked, making the smaller mech arch and cry out. His own engine revved at the sight. 

Optimus lapped at the seal softening it, before he climbed up, feeling his way up he lined up his spike, breaking through the seal with a snap of his hips. They both froze, Rodimus crying out in pain and clinging to Optimus. 

Rodimus whimpered, holding on to Optimus as the red and blue mech nuzzled his neck, dropping kisses and apologies. 

Megatron watched as they stayed tangled that way, his impatience getting the better of him. He moved close enough to smooth a hand down Optimus’ spinal strut. The mech cried out at his touch. It had been far too long since they had merged. his hand moved down, lingering over his aft, giving it a squeeze. He ran a claw across the rim of Optimus’ valve, one finger dipping in and finding only the usual welcoming warmth. He climbed onto the berth, entering Optimus and pushing his consort into the small mech, rolling his hips he set a brutal pace. 

Optimus cried out, rolling his hips back into each thrust, panting as the charge grew between them. His consort was glorious like this. 

Megatron growled appreciatively, chasing his own overload he pushed the other two, one processor thread overwhelming the rest. Rodimus cried out first, pulling Optimus down with him, charge crackled across both of their frames until Megatron was finally seeing stars himself, Optimus’ valve wringing every drop of transfluid from him.

OoOoOoOo


	3. Chapter 3

Rodimus onlined slowly, curling into the warmth enveloping him. He onlined his optics to see Optimus’ faceplates close to his own. The mech held onto him tightly, like a security mesh. 

He was so confused over the turn of events, and sore besides. He shifted closer to Optimus, wincing. It hurt, but it had also felt...amazing. Guiltily so. Such things were a sin against their creator. It amazed him that Primus had not struck them down where they lay. 

He wiggled out of the offline mech’s hold, and looked him over. his fingers traced over Optimus’ plating, checking for damage. There was surprisingly little. 

Rodimus could not get past the fact they had been in here with the slag-maker and lived to tell about it. He had thought he was a goner when the mech had showed up at the battle, and terrified when his team had been captured. His team. He worried about what had become of them. 

“Rodimus?” Optimus asked, as he cycled online. “I’m so sorry. I---I---” 

“It’s fine, Optimus. It was not as if either of us has a choice.” 

Optimus let out a little whine, “No but...I don’t know any more. He’s made me do so many things that would have me exiled if I were still an Autobot.” he reached up, touching the bare space where his sigil had been. “And---I---I enjoyed some of it. Primus would damn me. I know.” 

“Then, I suppose we will be damned together,” Rodimus said, leaning in he caught Optimus’ lips against his own. They were just as sweet this time as they had been the sol before. 

Opimus’ fingers moved along his plating as it had the day before, checking for damage. “I was afraid he would hurt you. I’ve seen too many Autobot’s hurt by---frag---Shockwave has Blurr and Bumblebee. They are both minibots. So small, and he’s turned them into nothing but frag toys. Mucked with their programming.” 

Rodimus leaned in, holding the shaking mech. “It sounds...horrible. What are we going to do?” 

“I don’t know what we can do, aside from live and hope it gets better. I---I haven’t told you the worst of it.” 

“I can’t imagine how anything could be worse than what you have told me already, what I have seen. Megatron has taken you as his mate. What can be worse than that?”

“Not just his mate, Rodimus. His bondmate. He...he took my spark and made it his own.” 

Rodimus put a hand over Optimus’ sparkplates, glad that Optimus could not see the look of horror on his faceplates. “I...I am so sorry,” Rodimus said, leaning into Optimus. He touched the other mech’s faceplates. “He did this to you?” 

“So I would be more dependant on him. Yes.” 

Rodimus leaned into him, catching Optimus’ lips again. the other mech was pliant beneath his fingers, and warming up. “Let me...make you feel better,” he said, trying to remember what Optimus had done to him the previous sol. 

He had never considered this, but what was done was done. Rodimus had always considered himself a quick study, and he used that talent now, nibbling down Optimus’ plating. The mech tasted sweet and made equally enticing noises. 

“Open up, Optimus. I want---I want you. Just you.” 

The red and blue mech gasped, parting his legs, his panel snapped open. 

Rodimus stared, not entirely sure how to proceed from there. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, this fumbling. Optimus’ spike was barely poking out from it’s array, not like it had the sol before. He traced across the tip, trying to figure out what to do next. 

He thought of what Optimus had done before, and took a chance. He leaned in, letting his glossa flick across the tip, and was rewarded with a loud moan from Optimus. His spike extended, hips twitching up. “Please---please Rodimus.” 

Rodimus caressed the spike before him, getting a good look at it this time. It was mostly silver with red under each ridge. It suited Optimus, he decided, as he leaned forward and took it in his mouth, sucking on it like he would an energon pop. It was strangely enjoyable. It made him wonder what that medic had done to him while he was out, before Megatron brought him here. 

“Please, I want to be inside you,” Optimus pleaded, hips twitching up again, more insistently this time.

Rodimus let his own panel retract, frowning as he noticed there was a cap where his own spike should have been, and a little Decepticon symbol was emblazoned on it. He scowled for a moment before climbing onto Optimus, straddling his hips, and slowly impaling himself on Optimus’ spike. He moaned loudly, if anything it felt even better this time. He rolled his hips grinding their arrays together before finally trying to find a rhythm. It was awkward at first, but soon enough he was moving above Optimus in a slow and steady rhythm, chasing after his own overload.

OoOoOoOo

Optimus had not known what to expect once they had reached Cybertron. This was far from what he imagined. He had been polished to within an inch of his life, and now the etcher was coming to see him before the actual ceremony. At least, that was what Megatron had told him.

All he had to do was lay back and worry. He had heard it would hurt, scraping away the nanites, and leaving silver in it’s wake. He wish Rodimus had been allowed to stay with him, but his bonded said it went against tradition. 

“You are Optimus?” A voice said, far too close for Optimus’ comfort, he had not even heard the mech approach. “I’m Knock Out, what a stunning frame you have. I can see why our illustrious leader chose you to bond with.” 

“What do you want?” Optimus said uneasily as the mech sat down on the edge of the berth.

“I will be etching your frame, just relax. I will make you look very, very good.” 

Optimus frowned, shifting uncomfortable. “M-megatron said he had already picked out the design.” 

“He has, very elegant if a bit untraditional. I think it will suit you. His eminence does have impeccable taste, as I already said. Do not worry consort.” 

Optimus heard the mech move and shuffle through his tools. They clinked as the mech set them out. 

“This may hurt a little,” Knock Out said, “Try not to flinch.”

It stung, but bearably so, Optimus found himself drifting away, worry about his team tickling across his processor. He still had not found out what had happened to Ratchet or Bulkhead. He prayed to Primus that Sari was not captured. 

“Open your panel,” Knock Out said, breaking Optimus from his thoughts. 

“What? No. I will not,” he gasped, “You will not take advantage of me.” 

“Megatron wanted---”

“I do not care what my bondmate wanted. You are not going to touch me there.” 

Knock Out huffed, “I am a medic, it is not as if it is something I have not seen before. Lord Megatron wanted your spike and your valve rim carved. It is not unheard of.” 

“No. I refuse to let you do this.” 

“You are being unreasonable, I will call Lord Megatron.” 

“You do that,” Optimus huffed.

The mech stomped away, and moments later was followed back by a more familiar tread. “Optimus, you have upset Knock Out.”

“He isn’t going to touch me there.”

Megatron rumbled, clearly pleased by Optimus’ declaration, “I admire your faithfulness, my mate, but you will allow the good doctor to do this.” 

Optimus clenched his jaw, “I will not.” He declared, and found himself lifted up. Megatron settled back onto the chair, Optimus’ back against his chest. 

“You will,” Megatron said, finding the manual latch and revealing Optimus’ array to the medic. 

Optimus cried out, “No, you can’t.” 

“Hush, my spark,” he murmured, and then there were unfamiliar hands on him, down THERE. It hurt so much worse than the rest of his plating, not just stinging, but true pain. He would have wiggled away had Megatron not kept a firm grip on his legs, keeping them spread apart so the medic could work. 

“I hate you, I hate you both,” Optimus hissed. It only served to make Megatron laugh. 

“You will forget that soon enough, when I take you on the altar you will scream my name before Primus.” 

“That is blasphemy.” 

Megatron laughed again, finally releasing his legs. The horrible mech must be finished. If he could see he would have hurt the mech, but he could not. He was stuck leaning against Megatron who was touching him all over his frame, before finally shutting his array. 

“You look beautiful.” 

Optimus grunted, too annoyed to even think of something witty to say. “I don’t want to do this.” 

“I am sorry to hear that, my spark. You will obey anyway.” 

“Not like I have a choice in the matter.” 

“All of Cybertron will rejoice, I promise you that.” 

Optimus sent him a disgruntled look, “Except for the ones you have enslaved.” 

Megatron stood, pulling Optimus into his arms and carrying him away from that horrible room, “You need to finish getting ready.”

OoOoOoOo

The room was noisy, filled with other mechs, but no one stopped them as Megatron led him through the crowd and up to what must have been the altar. He clung to Megatron’s arm, he seemed the only thing real in the room. If he concentrated on the mech the rest seemed less overwhelming.

He could not even focus on what the priest was saying. Somehow he still managed to say ‘yes’ at the appropriate times. His processor was fixated on what came next, the attentions of the mechs present was a heavy weight on his back. He had never interfaced in front of a crowd, and could not say it was something he would have consented to, but like so many other things Megatron took the choice from him. 

The priest moved away and Optimus was laid out on the altar. Fear shot through him, knowing his god would strike them down, but that did not happen. The altar was warm against his spinal strut, and Megatron was warm above him. It was a relief when his bonded pushed into him, spike stretching him wide. It gave him something else to focus on. It let him forget the crowd watching. When their sparks joined it was even better, his shout of release was lost in the roar of the crowd, but Optimus never noticed.

OoOoOoOo

Rodimus watched the Decepticons move about the great hall as he sat at Optimus’ peds. It was hard to admit to himself how revved up the show had made him. He wasn’t the only one, apparently. There were bots fragging all over the hall, bending their pets over tables, on the floor. He was too stunned at the display to turn his optics away.

It was hard not to go to his team. He picked them out in the crowd, but the chain Megatron had attached to his collar left him little room to move, and certainly not that far. He scooted closer, resting his cheekplating against Optimus’ leg. The mech was dozing again. How he could sleep through the noise the crowd was making was beyond Rodimus. 

He spotted Hot Shot across the room, being lead by a large, black rotary-mech, and Red Alert was with the lime green medic, Hook. Neither fact sat easy with him, but he supposed it could be...worse. 

Shockwave was fragging a blue minibot at the back of the room, bouncing the little thing on his spike. Each time Shockwave lifted the mech a bit of his aft glittered in the light. It took Rodimus a half breem to realize that there was some kind of jeweled plug stuffed into the poor minibot’s waste-port. His own clenched in sympathy, and a wince moved across his features. He did not think he would ever understand the Decepticons, certainly not....this. Blurr cried out from across the room, his scream high pitched. It cut off abruptly, as he apparently offlined, and was sat down on a pillow beside Shockwave. A yellow minibot scrambled up, fighting to take his place. It looked like he almost got into an altercation with a red minibot of a similar build. The whole thing was bizarre. 

They must have been reprogrammed. He could not imagine any sane Autobot acting in this manner. 

His optics wondered, settling on the purple flight frame that was close to his vantage point. He had an equally small blue and white minibot curled in his lap, recharging. The mech petted the minibot, holding him close and glaring at anyone who wandered too close. 

This strange obsession with tiny mechs was equally disconcerting. Rodimus had never seen so many of the bots in one place, and yet here they were. Every other mech seemed to have a minibot on a leash. 

His optics fell onto Sentinel Prime, and from Optimus’ description the other mech would have to be Bulkhead. Both seem to be with Strika. He scowled at the overly large femme, his hatred of her getting the better of him. He could almost feel sorry for Sentinel as the mech was pulled over one of the tables and fragged senseless. Almost. Sentinel had always been an aft.

He caught one of the femmes starting, a look of longing in her faceplates. She was a strange thing purple with spindly legs coming out from her back. Still Rodimus could not help but feel sorry for her and wonder how anyone could be pining after Sentinel. 

Strika looked up, noticing the other femme she smirked in a taunting manner, and for a moment Rodimus wondered if the smaller femme would challenge her to a duel. Instead the smaller femme turned away, walking away from the great hall. 

Optimus stirred beside him, finally coming out of stupor he had been in. “Rodimus?” 

“I am here,” Rodimus said, taking Optimus’ hand. “Are you---are you okay?”

“I am fine, just...tired,” Optimus said, pulling on Rodimus’ hand. The mech obliged, crawling into Optimus’ lap. Megatron rumbled in his throne beside them, his optics hot as they raked across Rodimus’ and his own consort. 

Optimus held on tightly to the smaller mech, holding him like a sparkling would a security mesh. 

“We will be going to our new rooms soon,” Megatron rumbled. 

Optimus turned his sightless gaze to Megatron, he looked steady, but Rodimus could feel him tremble. “If you wish.” 

Megatron nodded, his attention, thankfully going back to the crowd of bots, and the show before them. 

Rodimus turned to see what had caught Megatron’s attention and stared. There mechs had made a clearing in the center of the room and were putting up what looked like scaffoldings. He didn’t understand what they were for until they suspended the first mech. Then bindings holding him were complicated. He could tell that even from as far away as he was. 

Megatron rumbled at the sight, and it made Rodimus hold on tightly to Optimus. 

“What is going on?” Optimus whispered. 

“I don’t think you want to know,” Rodimus whispered back. He peeked back, a whimper leaving his vocalizer when he noticed one of the mechs being bound was Hot Shot. The youngest of his team was bound and gagged, his calves tied to his thighs, and his arms bound behind his back. Even from this far away he could tell the little mech was drugged. He did not even struggle when he was hoisted up, and suspended from the scaffolding. 

The large copter from the battle on Chaar stepped forward. Rodimus had to look away when he thrust into the little mech, fragging the mech so hard that Rodimus knew it had to hurt. He hid his face against Optimus’ neck unable to watch any more.

OoOoOoOo

Megatron eventually became bored with the ceremony and picked Optimus up, carrying him through the vast and echoing building, Rodimus trailed behind.

“Where are we going?” Optimus asked, letting himself fall back against Megatron’s chest. He could feel it when the other mech laughed. 

“The Magnus’ old chambers. I thought it was a fitting new home for us, and perhaps I will take possession of the manor as well.” 

“If that is what you think best,” Optimus murmured not feeling like arguing. He was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to be tucked away in his berth to snuggle with Rodimus. 

They entered another large room, and Optimus was sat down on a large couch. 

“Stay there,” Megatron admonished, “I will get your gelled energon.” 

Optimus sat in silence for a moment, and pondered on Rodimus’ silence. The mech had not said a thing since they had left the celebration, and not that Optimus thought about it, well before. “What is wrong, Roddi? You’ve been so quiet since we left the celebration,” Optimus said.

“You didn’t...it was horrible Optimus,” Rodimus said, whimpering. He climbed onto the couch, and onto Optimus’ lap, “The things they were doing to bots, it was horrible.”

Optimus pet the mech’s plating, holding him tightly and rocking him. His spark contracted when he felt Rodimus’ field flare out, full of grief. He was coming to care for Rodimus, he couldn't seem to help it. Feeling him this distraught was spark breaking. 

“Roddi, I...I wish I could do something.”

Rodimus nuzzled his neck, “It’s fine, Optimus, we will survive.” 

“Ro---” He was cut off as Rodimus was ripped from his grip. 

“Enough of that,” Megatron snapped. “I think you will do without your pet until you appreciate all I have given to you.” 

Optimus whimpered, curling in on himself as he heard Rodimus being dragged away. The room was quiet for too long. 

Eventually there was the echo of Megatron’s peds across the tiled floor, “Optimus, it is time for your fueling.” 

“What have you done with Rodimus. I---I want Rodimus now.” 

A gelled energon was pressed to his lips. Optimus opened automatically, as if on autopilot. He ate three more before Megatron finally relented and sat down beside him. “I will allow you to have your pet back if you can prove that you can behave, that you will be a good bonded.” 

Optimus let out a plaintive whine, “But---”

“If you can not prove this to me Optimus I will award him to one of my generals, Blitzwing perhaps.” 

Optimus trembled, he couldn’t lose Rodimus, not now. He could only nod, and push his willingness to obey through the bond. his vocalizer refused to work. 

“Good, I am sure you will become everything that I need you to be,” Megatron said, Pulling Optimus to him.

OoOoOoOo


	4. Chapter 4

Optimus was scared. It had been nearly a decacycle since Rodimus had been taken from him. The worst decacycle in his entire being, even worse than when Megatron had put the blinder on him. 

He felt uncomfortable, his spark aching in his chest. At first he had thought it was from worry, but he was not so sure any longer. 

It was worrying. He kept having a twinge in his spark, a pinching sensation like nothing he had ever felt before. It was uncomfortable. Optimus was afraid to say anything to Megatron though. He didn’t want Megatron to think he was whining or being a bad mate, not with Rodimus on the line. 

He was completely surprised when the sirens started to go off, he could hear the locks on the doors engage from where he was curled on the berth, leaving him sealed away from the rest of the compound. It was scary not being about to see while being all alone. His spark fluttered in his chestplates, and he felt Megatron’s frustration through the bond. 

He managed to get off the berth and stumbled in the direction he remembered the door was. He somehow made it and pulled at the door, pounding on it, but any sound he made was drowned out by the sirens. 

“Let me out,” he pounded more frantically until suddenly...everything went ominously silent. Optimus slid down the door, leaning against it. He could not even feed himself this way. Even had the energon dispenser been powered he could not get energon from it. Not even Rodimus could. Megatron had caught him doing it once, and that had been enough. The beating had sent Rodimus to the medbay. 

Optimus forced himself to vent slowly. Megatron would come for him. He knew that. He had to. Optimus shook, he could not believe otherwise. He curled up against the door, shaking until he finally fell into an uneasy recharge.

OoOoOoOo

Optimus woke sometime later, he wasn’t exactly sure how long since his chronometer was long gone, even before his comms had been taken. He stirred and tried to figure out what had woken him. He felt rage flowing through him that was not his own, and vague images of battle flitted through his processor. Megatron was wounded, he could feel his pain and it left Optimus feeling weak. 

His tank rumbled unhappily, far too close to empty for his own comfort. His spark twinged, and in response he curled into a tighter ball to gain some relief. 

It didn’t help, if anything his tank rumbled more loudly, just as Megatron’s presence along the bond became increasingly hard to ignore. His bonded was not happy. He was mad, and in pain. The anger seemed to outweigh the pain. 

Optimus shifted, groaning. His spark hurt. it wasn’t even the hurt he had felt when he needed to merge. That had eventually eased off to an extent. They no longer had to merge sol-ly.

No this was different.

OoOoOoOo

Megatron slashed his way through the scrambling mechs that rushed the doors, the alarms blared loudly and then silenced abruptly as someone cut the power. He had been wounded early in the battle, a minibot had lunged through an opening, cutting right into a gap in his armour, slashing through protoform. Somehow, by some miracle of Primus, it had missed the main energon line just a sword’s breadth from the cut. 

The minibot had tried to scuttle away, but Megatron had not let him get far. He lunged at the mech, impaling him with his sword before flicking him aside as if he was nothing. Megatron was sure that Shockwave would have loved to get his claws on the little mech in hindsight. Unfortunately, the thought had come far too late. 

The wound hurt, but he did not bother to dull his sensors, it kept him sharp and focused. Even so, the anger welled up. He could feel Optimus’ panic through the bond as the alarms stopped. He wanted nothing more to go to his bonded, but he had enough sense to realize Optimus was in the safest place he could be. The wing he was in was locked down tight. Shockwave and a squadron had already been dispatched to guard that entrance and to keep the rebels from breaching the wing. 

The rebels retreated, their leader shouted for them across the battlefield. Megatron’s optics fell on the the green rotary, and a far too familiar purple and yellow Autobot. The Wreckers were here. Megatron seethed inside. 

He had thought Impactor had been deactivated vorns ago. Clearly he was wrong.

They had fled too quickly when the battle was turning in their favour. It was worrisome. “Report, Strika,” he snapped as he strode past Team Chaar. 

“They breached the lower levels, my lord. Some of the prisoners are missing.”

Megatron stopped, turned and gave his general a sharp look. “Which prisoners?”

“Several of the Autobot High-Council: Botanica, Perceptor and Alpha Trion. Two of the sciencebots we captured: Mainframe and Wheeljack. And...they freed Ultra Magnus.” 

Megatron frowned at the list. “Did they breach the upper levels?” 

“No, my lord, they are still sealed,”

Megatron nodded, “Good. Secure the complex.”

Strika bowed, “As you wish.” She turned on heel and left, leaving Megatron behind. The grey mech rumbled, moving further into the complex and up to the sealed habitation suites. Optimus was in stasis, but it was an uneasy one. He could feel it. The mech’s fear seemed to radiate through the bond between them. 

He finally reached the doorway, tried the security panel, but it did not respond. Megatron growled, sinking his claws into the door he ripped it apart, forcing the panels open. The mechanism inside shrieked loudly, but finally gave way, revealing Optimus sprawled across the floor in front of the entry way. 

Megatron gathered the unresponsive mech in his arms, his anger finally giving way to worry. It was only five joors since he had last left the mech. He should not be in such a state. He cradled Optimus to his chest and made his way to the medbay. His worry increasing with each step. He had no doubt that he could survive a broken bond but he did not want to lose this mech. 

The medbay was busy, but the mechs moved aside as their leader stepped inside, “Hook,” Megatron barked.

The green and purple medic nodded, “This way, my liege.” He led the warlord to one of the private rooms. “What seems to be the problem, my lord?”

“He...there is something wrong, he won’t wake up,” Megatron rumbled as he laid Optimus down on the medical berth. “I could feel his distress during the battle. He should not be like this. I was away five joors. He only missed a few feedings.” 

Hook listened, frowning, “No, he should not be reacting this way to a nearly empty tank. Let me scan him. Please open his spark plates for me?” Megatron frowned, but did as the medic asked. 

The medic that had been in Optimus’ team came into the room, carrying a scanner, “Knock Out said you commed him and needed this.” The old medic stared and shook as looked at Optimus. “What the slag have you done to him?” He snapped. 

Hook bristled, “We have spoken about this. You will refrain from speaking, or I will get a mouth clamp for you.” 

The old medic growled, but stood down and watched Hook scan Optimus. “Well, this is interesting. Ratchet, scan him for me. I want a second reading to compare baselines.” 

The old medic frowned, but moved forward, doing as he was ordered. Ratchet looked devastated at the result, “He’s sparked.” His optics narrowed, and he would have lunged at Megatron had Hook not grabbed him by his collar fairing, pulling him back. 

Megatron looked stunned, “Are you sure? I was lead to believe it could be vorns.” 

“A common enough misconception,” Hook said, “When it comes to spark bonds conception comes much more easily.” He turned to the red and white medic, “Start an energon drip.” 

Ratchet scowled, but did as Hook ordered him. He was quick and efficient as he started the drip, and after several breems had passed Optimus stirred, groaning. 

“Megatron? Where are you?” Optimus reached out a hand, “Megatron?”

Ratchet watched Optimus’ reactions and understanding finally came to his features. “You blinded him, you monster.” 

“Ratchet?” Optimus warbled. “Are you there?” 

Ratchet growled and clasped Optimus’ hand, “I’m here.” 

“What happened?” 

Megatron bristled at the mech’s familiarity, “Remove your hands from my bonded.” 

“Bonded?” Ratchet dropped Optimus’ hand as if he had been scalded. He did lunge at Megatron then, and only Hook’s interference thwarted him. The Autobot’s arm was twisted behind his back, making the old medic cry out. 

“Ratchet, we will talk about this later. You will show Lord Megatron the respect he deserves.” 

Ratchet quivered with fury even after he was released. “Why blind him? It is barbaric.” 

“It is...traditional with such bondings. He will get his sight back in time, when his lord deems him ready.” 

“Ratchet, I am fine. Please don’t---don’t worry over me,” Optimus whispered. 

“This beast sparked you, and you tell me not to worry?” 

“What?” Optimus whimpered. “H-how long?” 

“Three orbital cycles,” Hook said, “The spark will be moving down into your gestation tank soon, the frame is nearly complete. Gestation generally runs anywhere from six orbital cycles to eighteen, depending on a lot of factors. From the current rate of growth you will be on the long side, warframes generally take a longer period of time. In any case I will be sending along some supplements with you. You went into stasis because the spark was leeching off of your frame. There was, luckily, no permanent damage. Nothing your auto repair cannot take care of at least.”

“Are---are you sure?” Optimus asked in a shaky voice. 

“Positive,” Hook pronounced. “Before I send you away I am going to give you several injections to boost up your system with the minerals you are lacking, and with nanites. If I hear you are not taking the supplements....” 

“I will take them,” Optimus trembled. “I wouldn't hurt a newspark...not even...I wouldn't.” 

Megatron rumbled, “When can I take him back?” 

“As soon as the drip bag is empty,” Hook reassured him, “just let me get the supplements and the injections. It is very important that he has the former, my lord. It can be the difference between a weak sparkling and one that thrives. The other equally important things, my lord, will be merging and transfluid donations.” 

Megatron purred, “I think I will enjoy that.” 

Hook laughed, “I am sure you will, my lord.”

OoOoOoOo

Rodimus ground his denta angrily against the bit in his mouth, Shockwave had left him hanging, literally, as he rushed out. Charge crackled across his chassis, but there was nothing he could do about it, restrained as he was. His calves were bound tightly to his thighs, and his thighs bound to his torso leaving very little give in the knotted ropes that bound him. His wrists were tied to his ankles, keeping him curled in a ball, practically, and far too exposed. 

It would have been bearable had he not been stretched wide, his insides clenching around the spike and the plug inside of him, and his charge unable to rise high enough with charge ring still firmly in place. As frustrating as it was, it was probably the only thing keeping him from overheating. 

If Shockwave ever returned, if he ever got free he was going to kill the little yellow minibot. Even now his slender fingers were dipping into his seams, plucking at wires until Rodimus wanted to scream...or cry. 

His valve clenched hard, rippling. It had been doing that for so long it hurt. 

“You look so nice like this,” Bumblebee murmured, his optics unfocused and hazed with some kind of drug. “I wish master would let me frag you, but he said no one could. You belong to our lord. It’s really not fair at all. I’m bored, and Blurr won’t play. He says it would make master mad.” 

Rodimus glared as best as he could. Blurr at least was quiet, curled up with Cliffjumper on the couch. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the minibots. Shockwave was molding them into pleasure bots, sadly, and somehow he thought he could do the same thing to Rodimus. It wasn’t going to happen. He growled, biting down harder on the bit. He was just glad the alarm had eventually shut off earlier. It had left him with a processor ache, and even less patience than usual. 

At some point Rodimus must have drifted off into a fitful recharge, and when he regained awareness again Shockwave was moving about the room, ignoring him. Rodimus’ spark quivered in fear, it was hard not to fear that the mech was never going to let him go. It seemed he was invisible, until Shockwave finally turned his attention onto him. 

That was worse. 

The one opticed mech circled him, claws reaching out and startling Rodimus as they picked out over-sensitised areas. Static crackled across his armour, and finally the claws moved to his array, removing the charge ring. His temperature shot up instantaneously. 

“Were you good in my absence, Rodimus?” Shockwave’s touches paused before they shifted, a claw tracing across the inside of Rodimus’ lubricant slicked thighs. 

Had he been able to he would have said something snarky, however nothing came out past the bit save a high pitched whine when the false spike began to vibrate. Rodimus’ joints locked up as charge crashed through his chassis, knocking him offline temporarily. 

“Megatron will be coming for you soon, I think I will leave you like this. I’m sure his lordship would...appreciate what a lovely sight you make.” 

Rodimus panted as the charge rose and crashed over him again, showing no sign of stopping. He was to the point of begging by the time the door chimed and Megatron strolled in. The warbuild purred in appreciation as he moved around Rodimus. 

“If Optimus did not miss you so much, I think I would keep you this way,” Megatron said. The mech’s lipplates curled in amusement. 

Rodimus whined louder, and it trailed off into a moan when he felt the magnalock released and the fake spike removed, only for him to be filled with Megatron’s own. It stretched him wider than the fake spike had, stressing the callipers and platelets to the point of pain. 

Rodimus’ hands clenched tightly as the spike pushed into the hilt, their arrays grinding against each other. Megatron had never taken him before, only Optimus, and he had hoped this day would never come. The only saving grace was the fact that he was already wet. Lubricant smeared across his thighs, the drip not nearly as distracting as the slide of Megatron’s spike against his overcharged nodes. It only took three strokes before he was screaming against the bit. 

His valve rippled lazily, clenching hard as Megatron continued to thrust inside of him. Charge tripped over his circuits, coursing across his armour to crackle and arc over their chassis with each hard thrust. Rodimus whimpered, wishing the mech would hurry up, but it seemed an eternity before he finally felt the wash of transfluid filling his valve. 

He went limp in the bonds, unable to summon the strength to struggle any longer. He was still strutless when Shockwave finally pulled him down from the scaffolding. 

Shockwave carefully unknotted the rope, and finally fastened a leash to the collar around Rodimus’ neck. When he stood he passed it over to Megatron. “I would leave the gag in for now, my lord, he is still...willful.” 

Megatron hummed, “I am sure we will fix that in time.” 

He pulled Rodimus up, holding him steady when it became clear his wobbly peds would not carry his own weight. 

Rodimus whimpered as he was mech-handled towards the washrack by Shockwave. It was unpleasant being scrubbed to within an inch of his life, and polished until he shone. Megatron watched, seemingly amused. Rodimus was not. The plug still inside of him made walking...uncomfortable at best. 

Megatron looked him up and down, smirking. “You will behave. I would hate to leave you with Shockwave on a more permanent basis, but I will if you give me any trouble. Do you understand me?” 

Rodimus’ optics widened, but he nodded his understanding. More of this was the last thing he wanted. Megatron pulled on his leash. “Optimus is waiting on us.” 

Rodimus cringed as he followed behind, trying his best not to waddle. He worked to stay close to the hulking warbuild with his leash in hand, but he could still feel optics on his back and aft as he walked down the hall. 

It was...humiliating. His face plates felt like they were burning by the time they finally reached Megatron’s habitation suite. The bit was gently removed, but Megatron kept a tight hold on the collar. The warbuild’s free hand moved across his chassis, groping his aft before smacking it right over the plug. His valve clenched hard, forcing a strangled whimper from his vocalizer. 

“You will be good to Optimus or I will make you very sorry, little mech.” 

“I will,” Rodimus moaned when the hand came down on same spot, harder this time and the resulting overload took him by surprise. 

Megatron hummed, clearly amused by Rodimus’ reaction. He unfastened the leash and gave the mech a little shove towards the berth. 

“Optimus? Wake up,” he curled himself against the blind mech, petting him until he stirred. 

“Rodimus? Is---am I dreaming?” 

“No, I’m here.” 

Optimus clung to him, holding on tight. “I missed you so much. I was so scared. The alarms went off, and then...I don’t know what happened after that. It was terrifying.” 

“Shhhh....I’m here now.” 

Optimus held on tight, rolling them over so that he could press Rodimus down against the berth and kiss him languidly. “I need you.” 

Rodimus heard the growl behind them only a moment before Megatron was on the berth, gathering them both into his arms. Rodimus shook, afraid to move. 

Optimus mewled, panel snapping open before Megatron lifted him up, impaling him. Something was different, but he could not quite put his digits on what. The resistance that had been in Optimus was gone. 

Rodimus did not understand it for a long moment, then realization bloomed as he watched the former Prime. There was an odd...glow about him. He rode Megatron’s spike, and if anything that cemented Rodimus’ realization. 

Optimus was carrying. Primus help them all.


	5. Chapter 5

Rodimus curled around Optimus, and listened to the steady purr of the other mech’s systems. He was worried. Greatly worried. Optimus seemed to sleep all the time. Sleep and consume energon. Twice as much as he normally did if what Rodimus observed was true. 

He smoothed a hand across the mechs plating. They were clean at least. Megatron would not tolerate dull plating, at least not on either of them. It would be time soon for him to get up, and lead Optimus into the washroom, then polish him until he shone. It was a responsibility that he did not mind. 

It wasn’t time, though, and he was not about to wake Optimus from such a deep recharge. The mech needed it as much as he needed spark energy for the bitlet. 

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t like the hold Megatron had on Optimus, or the fact he would never get to touch his own spark to Optimus'. That hurt. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. 

Optimus finally stirred. his field was laced with fear and tension as it always was when he cycled online. 

“Rodimus?” 

“I’m here,” He said, flaring his field out full of comfort. “It’s okay, Optimus.” He ran his hand across Optimus’ expanding abdominal plating. The plates had Irised out less than a decacycle ago, and Rodimus know they would expand more before the sparkling emerged. It was already awkward for Optimus to try to lay on his front, and it strained his spinal strut if he stood too long. “How about we get you in warm solvents for a soak.” 

Optimus smiled faintly, “You are too good to me.” 

“I don’t’ know about that,” Rodimus said as he helped Optimus to get off the berth. It was far easier said than done. 

He finally was able to get Optimus on his peds---albeit wobbly ones---and into the washrack. He helped Optimus sat on the edge of the shallow pool as it slowly filled. 

“Lets get this armour off of you,” he said, slowly stripping Optimus down to his protoform. The mech looked small and vulnerable that way. It made Rodimus want to hold him tightly. Instead he helped Optimus climb into the warm solvents, and slowly began to massage out the kinks in his limbs, and then his shoulder. He’d scrub the armour once Optimus was dozing in the solvents, it was a given. The surrounding warmth never failed to push Optimus right back into recharge. 

Optimus smiled faintly, “You’ve very good at that.”

Rodimus flushed, “Ah, I wish I could say it was a talent I brought to the table. You’d have to thank Shockwave though.” 

Optimus flinched at the name, “I’m---Oh, Primus, I’m sorry.” 

Rodimus stopped, and sat down on the ledge next to Optimus, resting his helm against the other mech’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it Optimus. What is done is done. I’m back with you now, and that is what is important.” 

“Rodimus---I don’t want you to be here. I want you to be safe. If---If I find a way to get you out of here I want you to promise me you will run. Run and don’t look back.” 

“Frag, Optimus. Don’t ask that of me.” 

Optimus laughed, it had a bitter ring to it that left Rodimus feeling ill. “I want you to be safe. Away from here. I know you love Springer, and he’s free. You should go to him. Just promise me.” 

“No, I won’t. Just stop talking about it. It’s not safe.” 

The both went quiet, the only sound in the room the lapping of the water against their frames, and the steady purr of their systems.

“Optimus.” 

“Just promise me.” 

“I can’t do that, Optimus,” he tilted his his head up, catching Optimus’ lips against his own. “I won’t leave you here.” 

They had had this conversation before. He knew he was not going to win, ever.

OoOoOoOo

Rodimus finally got Optimus settled back into his berth, and tucked in before he went to get supplies to stock the washroom. It was one of the few tasks he had been assigned, but he didn’t mind. It got him away from those rooms for a moment.

He made it to the supply room, and grabbed a wire basket from one of the shelves before he began to grab the waxes, and cleaning solvents that needed to be brought back to Megatron’s personal washroom. 

He reached up to pull a bottle off the top shelf when a hand was clamped over his mouth. “Frag, Roddy. We thought you were offlined.” He knew that voice. Springer.

Rodimus struggled, but Springer held onto him more tightly. 

“I’ll get you out of here. Calm down, Roddy. Calm down.” 

Springer’s hand slipped from his mouth, “Let me go. I don’t want to go back with you. Let me go!”

“I can’t do that, Roddy. I need to get you help.” 

“I don’t need help. I can’t go with you, just leave me.” He wiggled, trying to get away, he succeeded, but Springer caught him before he got to the door.

No! He didn’t want to go. he couldn’t leave Optimus, but Springer didn’t give him any choice. He wiggled, bit, tried to scream. He knew how it looked. It looked like he had been hacked.

“Calm down, Roddy, I’ll get you back to our base and we will fix you. Don’t worry,” Springer said, and then there was a sting in the energon line in his neck. It hurt. He vented, then went limp as whatever drug Springer injected him with took effect. 

He was hoisted up on Springer’s shoulder and finally the world went black.

OoOoOoOo

“Rodimus!”

Something shook him, rousing the red bot out of recharge. He groaned and finally onlined his optics, squeaking as his optics focused on a green bot. “Springer? What’re you doing here? Megatron will find you!”

He looked around, confused. He didn’t recognize anything in the room. “Where the frag am I?”

“Safe, you are safe, Roddy,” Springer said, moving close and bending down to kiss the other mech. 

He looked confused when Rodimus pushed him away. “Why did you do this? I can’t stay here. I can’t leave Optimus there. I can’t. You have to take me back.” 

“Are you crazy?” 

“No! You don’t understand...I can’t leave him there alone.” 

“Yes you can,” Springer said. “You will have to. I’m not taking you back. There is no way in the pit.” 

Rodimus trembled, “Then I will get there myself,” he said moving towards the door. 

Springer stepped between Rodimus and the exit. “No. You can’t go. It’s safe here, Roddy. Frag. You have no idea how---I thought they had offlined you.” 

“Megatron wouldn’t do that.”

Springer stopped and stared, “What?” 

“It would upset Optimus. He might hurt me but he wouldn't offline me. I can’t stay here.” 

“I don’t understand, Roddy. You are speaking nonsense.”

“No...I’m really not. Optimus is carrying. I can’t---I can’t leave him with Megatron. He needs me,” Rodimus said shifting. 

Springer frowned, “He is carrying Megatron’s spawn? Do you really think he will survive it? Chances are Megatron will snuff out his spark the minute the sparkling has emerged. It is only a matter of time before he would have done the same to you.” 

“No. It’s not like that. He wouldn’t hurt Optimus. Not physically. Megatron bonded with him,” Rodimus said, “I can’t leave Optimus there alone. I’m sorry. I can’t. I appreciate you caring. I appreciate you rescuing me, but it isn’t what I want. Optimus needs me. He needs someone there with me.” he quivered, “He needs someone to help him and watch over him, and frag it I want to be that bot.” 

Springer stared at him as if he had gone entirely mad. “Rodimus.” 

“Don’t Rodimus me. I know what I want. I d-don’t want to be at the mercy of the ‘Cons, but if that is what I have to do to be with Optimus...” 

“Rodimus. I love you.” 

Rodimus stiffened, “Springer. Please...please don’t.” 

“I know you love me too. I know you do.” 

“He needs me,” Rodimus said moving around Springer to the door. “Just take me back. Leave me where...where I can get back. I don’t want to give you away.” 

Springer glared at Rodimus, “You have a cog loose, I swear.” 

Rodimus gave him a lopsided smile, “I might.”

OoOoOoOo

Rodimus had hoped he would be sent right back. Instead he found himself in a makeshift medbay on one of Perceptor’s medical berths. The mech poked and prodded at him, doing Primus knew what, and it worried Rodimus greatly, but at this point he would do anything to get back to Optimus. Even submit himself to this examination.

Time trickled by, and at some point he must have fallen into recharge. 

Perceptor finally closed him up, and motioned for him to get up. “Springer will take you to the drop point,” the mech said in his cold voice. 

Rodimus shivered, scared and he did not even know why. “Sure, thanks.” He hurried away to where Springer was waiting. 

“Come one, gonna have to put you back into stasis for the trip.” 

“Fine, whatever. Just get me back.”

OoOoOoOo

Megatron glared down at Optimus’ pet. The mech had been found wandering outside of the walls, confused and calling out for Optimus. It was a strange affair, and a worrisome one.

“How did you get out?” 

The red mech looked up at him blankly, “I don’t remember.” 

“Clearly you are lying.” He reached out a clawed finger and touched the sparklock he had placed on the mech. It was broken.

“I---I’m not master. I don’t know how I got there.” 

Megatron growled, he pushed the mech to the ground, pushed his sparkplates with every intention to merge with the mech to find out the truth, but something gave him pause. Something looked odd about the mech’s sparkchamber. 

“Frag. Stay there,” he said, already comming Shockwave. 

Rodimus froze, “What---what is the matter?” 

“Just do not move,” Megatron snapped, his voice angry. “How dare they.” He bristled, armour puffing out. 

Rodimus watched in confusion, which only increased when Shockwave burst inside. 

“My lord, you should leave. It is not safe for you,” the mech said, bending over and examining Rodimus’ spark. “The bomb looks as though it was set to be triggered with a merge. It is a simple enough mechanism. I have already notified Hook. We can neutralize it easily enough.” 

“I want my pet kept alive, Shockwave,” Megatron snapped. 

“Ah, that will complicate things.” 

“I have faith in your ability to...deliver,” Megatron said, watching Rodimus. “If you knew about this...I will have you live to regret it.” 

“I didn’t. I swear to it,” Rodimus said, and Megatron could not help but believe him. The mech looked devastated. Betrayed. 

Hook came into the room finally, wheeling a cart. “He will need held down for this, my lord.” 

He handed Megatron a set of restraints that magnetized to the side of the berth, Rodimus did not even struggle when they were slipped around his arms, and a second set around his peds. He stared blankly at the ceiling, as if in shock, and maybe he was. Megatron stood back, and watched as the spy and the doctor went to work disconnecting the wires to the bomb right behind Rodimus’ spark. 

Rodimus’ hands clenched in the restraints, and a pained whine left his vocalizer. Neither mech was gentle as they worked around the wildly pulsating spark. Megatron’s claws itched to touch it, to take it in his own claws. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to take it with his own or snuff the life from it. The latter would tear Optimus up. Megatron was not entirely convinced that that was a bad thing. He wanted the mech to need him. 

Shockwave finally pulled the device free of Rodimus’ spark, and hummed in appreciation. “This is a neat piece of work, my lord. It is good that you noticed something was amiss, I do believe this would have taken out half the compound.” 

“Clever,” Megatron purred, “Very clever. Now, hack him and find out what he knows of the rebels.” 

Rodimus screamed as the spy jacked in, ripping through his firewalls without a care. Shockwave ripped the information from him, “He does not know the location, my lord, and...he did not know about the device either.”

“Excellent. You may leave us now.” 

Shockwave frowned, “Are you sure my lord?”

“Completely, leave us.” 

Rodimus stared up at the ceiling, “Just kill me already.” 

“Don’t claim to know my processor, little bot.” Megatron moved closer a heavy claw fell over Rodimus’ still open chest plates, caressing the spark within. “Perhaps you will. Perhaps this will be my gift to Optimus.” 

“I don’t understand,” Rodimus keened at the caress, arching into it. 

“You are a beautiful mech, I would not mind Optimus sparking you up. I wouldn’t mind sparkling you up. You returned, and that kind of loyalty deserves a...reward.” 

Megatron never stopped teasing his spark. Rodimus was finding it impossible to follow what Megatron was saying. Charge crackled across his spark, lighted across his plating until Rodimus was screaming, electricity crackling over his armour. 

“Yes, I think I might take your spark.” 

Rodimus panted, and struggled against his bonds as the warlord climbed up onto the berth, straddling his thin hips. “It’s such a beautiful spark. My beautiful spark. I won’t let them sully what is mine.” 

Rodimus heard the unmistakable sound of sparkplates snapping open. Red sparklight washed over Rodimus. He only had a moment to gasp before Megatron’s spark pushed against his own and the world dissolved into fire.

OoOoOoOo

Rodimus came online in Optimus’ arms, he didn’t have to move to know that Megatron was pressed against his backplates. He could feel that mech’s spark and knew it was him instinctively. The bond was tender, and wholly unwanted on Rodimus’ part. He didn’t understand why Megatron would do this. His spark throbbed. It was an uncomfortable sensation bordering on pain. He wondered if that was normal. If any of this was normal.

He knew exactly when Megatron came fully online, the mech shifted, and their bond opened fully. There was no way he could feign sleep, not with Megatron poking about in his processor. The mech knew he was online, and his hands shifted, moving across Rodimus’ plating. 

He could not hold back the squeak that escaped his vocal processor when he was mech-handled and pressed down into the berth, Megatron loomed over him. 

Megatron stared down at him, and finally smirked, “Open.” 

Rodimus froze. He battled with himself, not wanting to follow Megatron’s command even when his chassis was more that pleased to do to. 

“Open up, Rodimus. I will not ask again.” 

No. He wouldn't ask. He would just take. He knew that truth down to his core. He didn’t wait around for Megatron to get bored and rip the plates open, he let them slide apart, looking away from the mech the loomed over him, bathed in the light of his spark.


	6. Chapter 6

Rodimus curled up close to Optimus, wrapping himself around the mech. Megatron had left them nearly a joor ago and Rodimus was intent on staying right where he was. He hurt all over, and couldn’t imagine that it would get any better once Megatron did return. 

His spark cringed at the thought of the mech returning. Even that ached dully. Megatron had taken him over and over until he had finally fallen offline. As soon as he had come back online that dance had began all over again. 

He wasn’t sure how Optimus had stood up for so long against the monster. It would explain how the mech recharged so hard though. He did not stir no matter how tight Rodimus clung to him. He wiggled closer until they were plate to plate in every place possible. Optimus was warm, toasty so. He made Rodimus’ core heat rise up to a level that was at least comfortable if not comforting. 

“Roddi?” Optimus asked sleepily. “I dreamed you had left me. I was so sad. It felt like my spark was breaking in my chest. It hurt so baddly.” He nuzzled Rodimus unerringly for all that he still could not see. “Roddi?” 

“I’m here,” Rodimus said, moving into Optimus’ arms and nuzzling the larger mech’s neck cording. “I wouldn't leave you. I would die first.” 

Optimus frowned, “Are you okay, Roddi? You sound funny, and your plating is cold. Are you ill? Megatron can take you to the medic.” 

“No...it’s fine, Optimus. I’m fine. I promise. Just hold me and warm me up.” 

Optimus frowned, sitting up, his hands moved all over Rodimus’ plating. Feeling for damage. “You don’t feel right. What did he do to you?” 

“I don’t’ want to talk about it. Please. Please, Optimus, just hold me.”

Optimus frowned, leaned over the side of the berth to open a storage compartment. He pulled out several meshes and covered Rodimus in them before wiggling down beside him, pulling Rodimus into his arms. His hands moved along Rodimus’ backstrut, kneading. 

“Just relax, I will take care of you,” Optimus murmured, nuzzling his audial. 

It was easy enough to do. He felt weak from lack of fuel and all of the energy he expended. 

“He took your spark, didn’t he? Your field feels...different.” 

Rodimus whimpered in spite of himself, “Please Optimus. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“If not to me...Rodimus. Please don’t shut me out.” Optimus massaged little circles across Rodimus’ spoiler. “You are all I have.” 

“You have the sparkling,” Rodimus said, touching Optimus’ abdominal plating. It was expanding a little bit each sol. 

“He is Megatron’s. I’m sure there will be little of me in him," he said bitterly.

“But you will love him just the same,” Rodimus said, tucking his face against Optimus’ neck. 

“I---will. As much that I wish the opposite was true. Even if he gives me my vision back I will never be free of him.” Optimus did not sound convinced to Rodimus' audials, and it worried the mech. Would Optimus love the sparkling? He wasn't so sure.

“We will never be free of him,” Rodimus whispered, “but...at least we have one another.” 

Optimus revved his engine, “We do.” His fingers tripped across Rodimus’ sparkplates, “Please. I want you.” 

Rodimus was sure that Megatron would have locked them, but his plates slid open smoothly, baring his spark to Optimus’ deft hands. 

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Optimus purred, his own sparkplates slid open with a snap, and before Rodimus could have another thought Optimus pressed their sparks together. 

It was everything that the melding with Megatron was not. Optimus was a warm presence against his spark, the threads from their sparks entwined as though they had a million times before. It felt...right.

Optimus’ spark wasn’t forceful. It melted into Rodimus’ own spark, until the two were completely entwined. The bonding protocols unfurled, leaving Rodimus clinging to Optimus.  
The overload that rocked through the both of them came as a surprise, sending them both crying out in bliss. 

They both fell offline, limbs tangled together and did not stir until nearly a joor later. Rodimus knew Megatron was looming over them, watching even before he onlined his optics. 

“You were busy while I was gone,” Megatron purred. It was a noise Rodimus had come to dread. “I don’t think you realize how very hard it was to hold the meetings with the distraction you provided.” 

Megatron felt it all. Of course he felt it all. Rodimus cringed, hiding himself away against Optimus. 

That didn’t last. Megatron was on them before Rodimus could even move away. He pulled them both close, pressing their sparks together. 

Rodimus screamed, it felt like he was burning, enveloped and smothered by Megatron’s much brighter spark. 

Optimus screamed, arching up, and weakly pushing at Megatron, but the large bot held them both easily, pulsing spark energy into them until they were to the bring of overload, only to slow down and hold them there. Poised to fall over the edge. The pain and pleasure looped through the bond. Echoing. 

It seemed like an eternity before he finally let the overload overtake them, and in the aftermath Rodimus knew that something had taken root in his spark. He prayed that it was Optimus, and prayed more that it would disperse on it’s own. Bringing a youngling into the world terrified him. 

Still...

When he finally fell into recharge he slept more deeply than he had since this nightmare began.

OoOoOoOo

Blurr closed his optics and tried his best to stay still. It was so hard sometimes, even with the ‘improvements’ Shockwave had made to his programming. He was still a jittery thing. He knew Shockwave had made changes. He couldn’t bring himself to care any more. It gave him some sense of peace. He wanted this. He wanted Shockwave to take him, to use him.

Knowing that the mech preferred him to the others made his spark flutter in his chest. He hoped that Shockwave would chose him to carry his heir. 

“Such a good mech,” Shockwave purred. His claws ran across Blurr’s backstrut, and finally settled on his aft, squeezing it. 

Blurr wiggled his aft, pressing his chest plates against the slab. “Thank you, Master.” 

“What should I do to you today? String you up and leave you in the common room?” 

Blurr whimpered, his valve clenching hard at the idea of being used like that. “If that is what you want, Master.” 

Shockwave hummed, and traced a claw around the rim of Blurr’s valve, then his exhaust port. “Perhaps I should use you until you fall into stasis. I could try out my new toys. Would you like that pet?” 

“Please, master. Please. I want you.” 

Shockwave made a tutting noise, and leaned down to nuzzle Blurr’s audial, “But it is not about what you want, my dear mech. It is about what I want. Perhaps I should punish you. Leave you stuffed full and unable to overload for joors...but you would like that too, wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes,” Blurr mewled. He would love that. Every minute of it. 

“If only the others were as...willing as you, my pet.” 

Blurr groaned, he didn’t want Shockwave to talk about the /others// or think about them. Not now. He wanted Shockwave to take him. He wanted him so much it hurt. A needy whine burst from his vocalizer just as Shockwave walked away and opened the cabinet, and ruffled through it before bringing over, and laying down a metal plug along with weights. Blurr shivered inside, and tried his best not to wiggle as Shockwave stepped away again, and went to the storage closet. He craned his helm to the side to see what Shockwave would pull out this time. 

The item looked like a stool, or a vault. Something harmless if the top did not come to a dulled point, a perfect triangle from a side view. It was tall enough the Blurr knew he wouldn’t be able to touch the ground once he was put on it. His valve clenched hard, and he looked away. He knew the point of the seat would grind against his array deliciously. 

He heard Shockwave go back to the cabinet, his spark pounding. He knew the mech was choosing a fake spike to put on the vault. His valve clenched, and idly he wondered which it would be this time.

He was so wrapped in his thoughts that he did not hear Shockwave come back to him until the claws dropped onto his spinal strut, making him jump. 

“So wet already. This excites you, doesn’t it? Perhaps I should leave you there all night. Have guests over and let them watch you. Would you like that?” Shockwave asked. He smeared lubricant on the plug before pressing it against Blurr’s waste port. He put a gentle pressure on it until the callipers dilated and the plug pushed in all the way, flush against the rim. Shockwave twisted the base, making it flare open inside Blurr, slowly stretching him wide before locking it in place. It was...maddening. 

“Get up,” Shockwave said expectantly, and watched Blurr move slowly of the bench, waddling as he made it to his peds. 

Shockwave watched him, optics had shut as he lead Blurr over to the vault, picked him up and slowly impaled him on it. The spike was large. Larger than Shockwave's, and ridged. 

“Stay,” Shockwave said, arranging Blurr’s limbs. He bound Blurr’s arms behind his back. When that was finished arranging Blurr to his liking he worked on attaching weights to each of his ankles.

Blurr moaned, letting his helm drop back. The spike inside nestled against his ceiling node, grinding against it with each inadvertent shift. It felt..amazing. 

Shockwave stepped away, watching him with a hooded optic. “You are beautiful, my pet.” 

Blurr panted, closing his optics, the charge building was unbearable, but he knew he couldn't overload. His master would be so disappointed if he did. 

He watched Shockwave transform, the sight of his Longarm guise a complete shock. He knew they were the same bot in theory, but it still made his spark clench painfully when the mech pulled him forward, kissing him hard. 

Blurr moaned when the kiss broke, his hand clenched behind his back wanting to hold on so badly. 

“Blurr, you always were such a good mech. Perhaps I should get the others and let them tease you. Would you like that?” 

“No,” Blurr said, optics widening as it came from his mouth. 

“No?” 

“I want you.” 

Shockwave pulled away, the optics of his Longarm disguise narrowed and watched Blurr, his derma twisting into a scowl. “Blurr, what is your purpose here?” 

Blurr shook, “Master?” 

“What is your purpose here?”  
Blurr whimpered, “I don’t understand what you are asking, Master.” 

“Why are you here? What is your purpose here?” Shockwave asked. 

“I---I am h-here f-for your pleasure.” 

Shockwave stepped forward, grasping Blurr’s chin tightly, “Then why are you demanding things?” 

Blurr whimpered, “I’m sorry, M-master. I’m sorry. P-please forgive me.” 

“I don’t know if I should. Perhaps you should be punished.” 

“I-I-I’m sorry, Master. I-I didn’t m-mean to offend you. P-please d-don’t p-punish me. Please,” he wailed. 

Shockwave rocked back, a smile spreading across his faceplates as he moved around Blurr, walking a lazy circle around the vault and finally stopping behind him. He nuzzled Blurr’s audial. “You are not allowed to overload until I tell you to. He bit Blurr’s neck cording and reached around him, with something in his hand. Blurr only caught it in his peripheral vision and did not realize what it was until the vibration hit his exterior nodes. 

Blurr cried out, arching against the vibrator even as he was anchored in place. 

“Beg pet, and I may let you,” Shockwave hummed against his audial. “Beg, Blurr.” 

Charge built up, crackling against his nodes, and finally along his plating.

“Please, Master, Please!” 

“Mmmmm....not quite good enough, try again.” 

The vibration increased in strength, rubbing against the nodes along his valves rim. It was unbearable, but somehow Blurr held on, falling limply against Shockwave after what seemed an eternity. “Please master,” he whimpered, voice crackling with static.

“So beautiful when you beg,” Shockwave hummed, and moved away, unbinding the weights from Blurr’s legs, he pulled the smaller mech off the vault and crossed the room towards the berth. 

Blurr lolled against Shockwave’s chestplates, insensate as he was pushed down onto the berth. Shockwave pushed the smaller bot’s chestplates down onto the berth, and pulled his aft up, his spike pushed into Blurr’s wet valve spreading him wide. It shocked Blurr back into alertness, wringing a cry from his vocalizer. Shockwave pounded into him, intent on using him until his was a limp puddle of mech on the berth below him.

His processor was swimming, the charge too high for him to think clearly. It was a relief when he finally heard the permission he had been waiting for since their session began. His valve clenched hard, the charge rocking through him hard enough to send him offline. He fell in a tangle of limbs beneath Shockwave’s greater mass.

OoOoOoOo

Rodimus had spaced out during much of the time he had laid curled up with Optimus on Megatron’s lap. The audience, and the ambassadors that came to see the warlord were dull at best. Optimus had long since fallen into recharge, Megatron’s hand on his helm petted him slowly like a cybercat.

Rodimus was drifting in and out of recharge himself by the time the Quintesson ambassador came forward. He tried not to stare at the tentacled monstrosity, but it was increasingly difficult. Rodimus had never seen a Quintesson before, they were not exactly welcome on Cybertron or it colonies. Not during the Autobots rule. He stared at the creature as it and Megatron hammered out a trade agreement, and seemingly spaced out until the creature bowed and announced it was time to exchange the traditional gifts. 

Megatron nodded, “What have you brought me, Extempaxia?” 

Rodimus’ attention perked, and he leaned forward.

“I had heard that you had finally started your harem. I have brought you the---traditional gifts for such a thing.” He turned and one of his assistance, a small mech that looked like a hybrid between their two species. The mech brought forth a chest, inside were two jewel encrusted collars and other things that Rodimus did not want to get a closer look at. “I know your consorts will look delectable in these, and I hope you will accept my gift of Edit as well. He will be a good mech for you. He is from my own breeding stock.” 

The hybrid quivered, the words clearly unexpected and unwanted. “Sire. What are you doing?” 

Rodimus felt sorry for the mech. Edit cringed at the look that Extempaxia sent him. “Hold your glossa, child.” 

Megatron rumbled, optics narrowing, “I accept your gracious gift, and have one of my own.” He turned, and watched Blitzwing bring out two collared mechs, a bright red one and a gold one. “Split-spark twins. A rarity that I would hope that you can appreciate.”

“I do, Lord Megatron. Will you partake your gift? It is...tradition.”  
Megatron purred, and carefully sat the still sleeping Optimus, and Rodimus on the pillow beside the throne. He leaned forward and motioned for Edit to come forward. Rodimus could not help but feel sorry for him. The mech shook, his tentacles coiling close to him in a defensive response. 

Edit turned back to Extempaxia, “Sire, you---you cannot mean to--to give me to---please.” 

“You will fulfil your duty. This is not up for discussion.” The Quintesson turned his attention to the twins, one tentacle snaked out, wrapping around the red mech and drawing him close. The mech cried out, struggling in Extempaxia’s grasp. 

Rodimus watched in horror as one of the Quint’s tentacles transformed, a long stringer rising from the end. It struck out, stabbing into the red mech between his plating. The mech’s optics widened and he wiggled in the Quint’s grasp, moaning loudly. His interface panels snapped open, the noise echoed through the room. 

“What did you do to him?” the golden mech screamed, struggling in Blitzwing’s grasp. 

“It is only a mating virus, you will feel it’s effects...when I am finished with your brother,” he pulled the mech against him, tentacles wrapping around him. 

Rodimus pulled Optimus closer to him, glad that the mech was still deep in recharge. He didn’t think that Optimus would take this well, or appreciate Megatron pulling the poor little hybrid to him. The mech shivered and shook as his seals were exposed. He was crying when Megatron pushed him down, ripping through his seals and impaled him on his spike. 

Rodimus winced, looking away he clung to Optimus more tightly until his mate finally stirred, “Rodimus, what is wrong>” he whispered. 

“Sssshhh...” Rodimus said, “you don’t want to know.” It was impossible not to recognize the noise in the room though. He turned his helm, and stared at the poor red mech who was being taken by the Quint. He...had never seen a spike that big. not even on Megatron. He shivered in sympathy. The mech...sounded like he was enjoying it though, moaning loudly and carrying on like a cybercat in heat. 

His brother had fought against Blitzwing until the mech had finally just strung him up, leaving him bound and unable to even fight back as his brother was taken over and over, until he finally fell limp in the Quint’s tentacled grasp. 

“Delicious,” Extempaxia purred, and reached for the bound mech as the red one slid to the floor, offline. 

The golden mech screamed, trying to break free, but the stingered tentacle struck out again, and he went limp, moaning softly. 

Rodimus looked away unable to watch the mech be fragged into submission. He buried his faceplates into Optimus’ neck cording, shaking. It was impossible to tune out the continuous clang from the throne, or Edit’s soft moans. He felt terrified for the mech. No one should have to bear this. 

Optimus held onto him tightly, his sightless optics dim. “It will be over soon,” he whispered. Rodimus hoped he was right, that they would not be dragged into this...whatever this was. Optimus turned his blind optics to the throne, flinching back. “I--Is he killing him?” 

Rodimus blanched, clinging tighter to Optimus, nuzzling his audial, and then his cheekplate before kissing him. Their glossas flicked against each other. Rodimus pushed Optimus back against the pillows, grinding their chassis together. “No, he’s not. Don’t you feel it?” 

Rodimus could tell the moment that Optimus opened his end of the bond with Megatron, he arched up, moaning loudly. 

“I need---I need---” Optimus trashed beneath him, his panel snicked open and his spike rose between them, rubbing against Rodimus’ frame. 

“Shhhh---I know,” Rodimus scrambled up, getting enough leverage to move himself into place, line up Optimus’ spike and impale himself on it. Rodimus let his helm fall back and rolled his hips. Optimus always stretched him just right. It was perfect, and for a while he was able to tune out the chaos around them. 

Rodimus chased his own overload, and dragged Optimus for the rise, setting a fast pace. He didn’t want to linger over it. Optimus fell first, screaming as it rocked through him, and Rodimus was not long after. It was a relief when blackness claimed them both.


	7. Chapter 7

Edit shivered, he still could not believe his sire had presented him as a gift to Megatron. He had been blindsided. He had expected to be bonded off eventually, some political alliance with another Quintesson more than likely. He had accepted that end. He had not even expected to be a first bonded. He was a halfling after all, and not worthy of being a Quintessen first bonded, not a noble born’s any way.

Megatron’s bondmates curled closer to him, surrounding him in warmth. He was, truthfully, afraid to move. He knew nothing of these mechs or their temperament. Quintessen first mates tended toward the volatile. He did not imagine that Cybertronians were any different.

The red mech burrowed closer, grabbing one of Edit’s tentacles and making him squeal. Luckily it was not loud enough to wake either mech. The mech held on tightly, almost tight enough to leave dents, and he was overly warm, occasionally whimpering in his recharge.

Edit frowned and leaned away, studying the first consorts faceplates. He was a pretty thing, and Edit could understand why Extempaxia hoped to get one of this mech’s sparklings later. He could not see Megatron ever agreeing with that though. Not at all. The mech did not approve of his sire’s kind. Edit could tell.

The red mech beside him stirred, booting up he still held onto Edit. The mech petted his tentacles, nuzzled his neck and pulled him closer. “Why are you scared?” the mech murmured in his audial. “I can feel it in your field.” 

Edit turned in the mech’s arms so he could see his face, “I wasn’t expecting to---to---” 

“Be gifted to old buckethead?” 

Edit’s optics widened, “He is your bondmate, how can you speak that way?” 

“He is, but I wasn’t given a choice in the matter. Optimus and I are the spoils of war.” The red mech studied him, “I’m Rodimus by the way, don’t think I ever had a chance to give you my name.” 

“Edit. But you know that already.” 

Rodimus laughed, “Yes, I do.” He leaned forward, catching the mech’s lips against his own, tilting his head and plunging his glossa in.

Edit moaned, he’d never been touched like that. Never kissed or caressed. His sire would have killed him had someone taken his seals before they were given to his bonded. It felt good, and yet he worried. Would Megatron punish him for this. He whimpered in fear at the thought. Would his tentacles be cut off? He had heard worse punishments from his sires mates.

“Shhh....what’s wrong?” 

“M-megatron! I don’t want him to cut off my tentacles.” 

Rodimus stared, “Why do you think he would do that? Frag, from what I saw he likes them...a lot.” 

“If he s-sees us doing this...”

Rodimus laughed, “He likes to watch Optimus and I go at it. i can’t see how this would be any different, but I will stop if you want me to.” 

Edit whimpered, he was starting to feel overheated. His valve clenched hard. It was an odd feeling. The callipers had not been online until Megatron was pushing into him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the sensation.

It was odd. It felt good. But it was...overwhelming. It was scary.

“I don’t know. I don’t want him to hurt me.” 

“He won’t,” Rodimus kissed him again, pushing him back against the berth and nibbling his way down Edit’s body. He took one of Edit’s tentacles into his mouth and Edit thought he was going to die from it. The wet warmth and suction was...amazing.

Rodimus wiggled down farther, and the mech....he lapped at Edit’s interface panel. Edit squeaked. “What a-are you doing!?!?!”

“Trust me, it feels good. Open up.”

Edit whimpered, squirming beneath Rodimus. “Good mechs don’t do this.” 

“Yes, they really do,” Rodimus said, licking the seams of the panel until it snapped open.

Rodimus nuzzled the newly exposed folds, his glossa flicked them, pushing inside and flicking against the nodes along the inner rim.

Edit cried out, and then whimpered in fear when he opened his optics and saw Megatron watching them from the doorway.

Rodimus stopped, and looked behind him. He stared at Megatron, optics narrowing, he dared the mech to say anything. Edit could tell it from the expression on the warlords faceplates.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Megatron rumbled. He leaned back against the door and watched. His optics were half-lidded and intent.

It made Edit want to wiggle away and hide beneath the berth.

He probably would have if Rodimus had not had a good grip on his hips. The mech nuzzled into him again, worrying at the exterior nodes until charge crackled between them.

He was so distracted he barely noticed Megatron move close enough to pick up his still slumbering first-bonded and moved with him to one of the chairs. It was a big throne of a chair and gave the mech an embarrassingly (for Edit) good view of what Rodimus was doing.

Megatron petted the red and blue mech’s frame like a cybercat as he watched, looking smug. His fans purred loudly, and some part of Edit’s processor wondered how the mech could sleep through all of that noise, but the warlord’s first-bonded did. He merely shifted and found a more comfortable position.

Rodimus went to work, nibbling and licking until Edit was screaming and bucking with overload beneath him. Charge crackled along his plating as they lay entangled.

“You taste so sweet,” Rodimus murmured, crawling back up and kissing him languidly. “You’re so beautiful. I wish I could take you,” he looked back, glaring at Megatron, “But that won’t be possible any longer.” He growled, “I could ride you though, would you like that?”

Megatron only chuckled, still petting his consort. Rodimus took it as a yes, his finger’s trailing across Edit’s spike. It was still hidden and sealed, but Rodimus stroked the seal gently until it broke through.

Edit cried out, whimpering from the pain for a brief moment before he was enveloped in wet warmth. It was...overwhelming. Processor blowing. He thrust up, grabbing Rodimus’ hips before he realized what he was doing.

“Just like that,” Rodimus hummed. He rolled his hips in little circles, grinding the head of Edit’s spike against his ceiling node. His callipers rolled and clenched hard. “Perfect.” 

Edit panted beneath him, his vents stuttering and heaving. “Oh---oh---that feels good,” he said in wonder, looking up at Rodimus with shocked optics. He didn’t know what to expect exactly, but this was not it.

“Mmmmmmm...yes it does,” Rodimus agreed, rolling his hips slowly. “And it will only get better.” 

Edit moaned, “Don’t see how.” He let his tentacles unfurl, and let them wrap about Rodimus’ chassis. The caressed the mech’s seams, darting in to touch protoform and wires. Rodimus seemed to like it, moaning himself.

“Frag, don’t stop,” Rodimus said. The mech clenched his callipers down on Edit’s spike. They rolled and fluttered.

Edit couldn’t hold back any longer. He bucked his hips up, wrapping his tentacles tightly around Rodimus and spilling into his valve. Pleasure filled his frame leaving him feeling strutless. Rodimus fell on top of him, but he didn’t complain, on held on tightly to the mech and vented softly.

Megatron rumbled from where he sat watching, “You put on a good show, little mech. Perhaps I will keep you.” 

Edit whimpered, “Thank you, my lord.”

Rodimus snuggled against him, growling, “Stop trying to frighten him, Megatron. He’s already scared enough.” 

Megatron laughed loud enough to wake Optimus. The mech stretched and shivered, pressing himself against Megatron. Edit peeked past Rodimus, watching him. Optimus mewled, rubbing his extended abdominal plating. Edit tried not to stare, but it was impossible. He had never been near a carrying mech. They were always secluded to prevent the sparklings from being contaminated with other mech’s coding.

“Why don’t you have him locked away?” Edit finally asked in confusion. 

“We don’t do that to carriers,” Megatron rumbled. “Rodimus is carrying as well. Optimus’ sparkling.” 

Edit whimpered, staring up at the mech he was still wrapped around in horror. “Please don’t offline me, I didn’t know. Please.” 

“You are fine, little mech. Just keep your spike away from Optimus. Otherwise I will chop it off,” Megatron said. Edit watched as Megatron’s claws began to stroke Optimus for an altogether different purpose. The mech’s panels snapped open obediently and he was dropped down onto Megatron’s waiting spike. Optimus leaned back against Megatron’s chest plates and let the larger mech use his valve how he wanted. It was...easily the hottest thing Edit had ever seen. 

Edit’s own spike extended again, still encased in Rodimus’ valve. It ached, throbbing as Rodimus clenched around him.

Rodimus clung to him, mewling. The red mech’s frame heated up, his field flaring out and wobbling with the pleasure that pushed through his bond. Edit had never experienced another mech’s field like that. It pushed against him needily, raising his own charge. It was aggressive, and he could not help but answer in kind. He wrapped Rodimus in his tentacles, rolling them over he pushed Rodimus into the berth. It was awkward, but the angle was better.

Rodimus mewled and wiggled beneath him, “Oh, frag...oh frag....like that...” 

Edit growled, biting Rodimus’ neck he pounded into the mech, mindless of the dents he was leaving.

Edit fell over the edge with a groan. His transfluid shot through Rodimus’ valve hitting the sparking nodes and finally sent Rodimus tumbling into overload. They fell over together, clinging tightly to each other.

OoOoOoOo

Time passed in a blur for Optimus. He was put on berth rest not long after Edit came into their possession. It seemed like he did nothing but sleep. Sleep, refuel, and cuddle with whatever bot was there to watch him. Sometimes it was Rodimus, sometimes Edit, but most of the time it was Megatron himself. The big mech always held on tight as if he was scared that Optimus would disappear. Optimus was too tired to even resent him for it.

The mechling seemed as though it was draining Optimus of all of his energy. It left him lethargic.

Megatron would carry him about, like some pet. The sleeping mech in his arms. Megatron’s generals watched, envious. Sparklings were far too rare. Even now. Optimus and Rodimus were two of the first of the captives to become sparked. Most of the Cons took it to believe that Primus had indeed blessed their leader.

Maybe he had. Optimus couldn't care less. He was ready for the sparkling to be out of him. He didn’t want to think about what would happen after the bitlet’s emergence. He wasn’t sure if he would be required to care for it or if Megatron had come bots standing by ready to do that. 

He knew nothing of sparkling care, had never spent any real time in the creches when he had been on Cybertron. He had never felt drawn to them or had ever given any real thought to having one himself. That had been an event for far, far into the future....if ever at all. 

That choice had been taken from him. He lifted a hand, and pressed it against his abdominal plating. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want to take care of it, or even see the abomination that Megatron had forced on to him. The farther into his carrying the more resentful he felt.

He wondered if Rodimus felt the same, he could not tell even over their bond. The mech was oddly guarded. He was afraid to ask. Afraid to voice it and afraid of what Rodimus would say. 

“Optimus?” Megatron’s voice was close. Too close. He hadn’t heard the mech approach. He was picked up before he could protest and settled against Megatron’s chestplates. It was warm, and comforting. He hated how comforting it was. 

Optimus looked up, his sightless optics settling on Megatron’s faceplates. “What do you want, Megatron?” 

“Can I not just want to spend time with my bonded?” 

Optimus vented loudly, “You do what you want.” 

“You don’t seem happy, love.” 

Optimus stiffened, “Don’t call me that. You aren’t allowed to call me that. You don’t love me, you---you forced me into this. You took my sight. You’ve hurt Roddi,” Optimus voice rose shrilly. 

“You need to calm down. It’s not good for the sparkling.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t care. i don’t even want it. You made me have it and you made me bond with you and I don’t want any of it. I just...I just want Roddi and you took even him away.” 

“Optimus. You don’t mean that,” Megatron said calmly. Too calmly. They were moving, and Optimus didn’t know where. 

“Put me down. PUT ME DOWN.” 

Megatron signed, and then in a quiet voice as if he was trying to sooth a wild mechanimal, “I can’t do that, Optimus. I’m taking you to the medbay. You are just upset. I know it happens with carriers, but Hook will give you something to calm you down.

Megatron moved through the hall, not slowing down. he entirely ignored Optimus’ protests. 

Optimus heard a door swish open and he knew they were in the medbay. He struggled against Megatron, wiggling and scratching at him. It didn’t faze the warlord, and soon he was sat on a medberth, and Hook was injecting something into his lines. The world went fuzzy leaving Optimus slumped against the berth, optics half shut. 

“There you go,” Megatron murmured, “Just relax, Optimus. I will take care of you. I will always take care of you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Rodimus watched Optimus. The mech was tucked into the medical berth, wires everywhere, and in an induced recharge. He looked peaceful, his face lax, and free of the blinder. Megatron had removed it sols before. Rodimus knew that Optimus would be happy with that. 

It was everything else that would alarm the mech. The sparkling would be coming soon, and Hook had not-so-subtly suggested that they leave Optimus in this state until after the bitlets emergence. Rodimus thought it was one of the smartest moves they’ve made since they were both taken captive. 

Edit peeked through the doorway, his shoulders hunched. Rodimus waved him over, knowing that the mech would never come inside on his own. He was so shy. 

“Sit with me!” Rodimus finally ordered, and smiled when the mech crossed the room to take up a perch beside him. 

“He looks better,” Edit finally said quietly. He scooted closer to Rodimus, wrapping his tentacles around the mech. 

“I guess,” Rodimus said, wrapping an arm around the smaller mech. “It’s not going to be pretty when he finally wakes up.” He winced at the thought. “He’s not going to be happy. I don’t...I don’t think he wants it.” Rodimus’ put one hand protectively over his own middle. He would love the sparkling regardless of Optimus’ own feelings. He knew that with all of his spark. “What are we going to do, Edit?” 

The mech beside him froze, “Do? It’s not up to us, Master Rodimus. It is up to our Lord.” 

Rodimus snorted, “Don’t call me that.” 

“You are though,” Edit squeaked when Rodimus pinched a tentacle. 

“I’m really not, Edit. I’m just a slave,” Rodimus finally said. “That is all I am. Do not call me master. Please.” 

Edit wiggled closer, “If you insist.” 

“I do. I really do,” Rodimus laughed, and turned his attention to Optimus. “I’m so worried about him, Edit. I wish I could protect him from all of this.” 

Edit shifted, his field full of unease before he pulled it tight against his plating. “You love him very much...don’t you?” 

“More than anything,” Rodimus answered without a seconds thought. 

“I can see why. He seems like a good mech,” Edit whispered. 

“He is. We’ve been through a lot together. He’s been through a lot.”

OoOoOoOo

Blurr panted, spreading his legs wider. He had rarely felt so full. The toy locked in his valve rubbed against the nodes, scraping against them and raising Blurr’s charge every time Shockwave thrust into his waste port. He moaned lowly and pawed at the mesh covering the berth. 

“Please, master. Please.” 

“Soon, my pet. Just relax, I’ll take care of you.” 

The overload rippled through his system, making him clench Shockwave’s spike and the toy, a keen escaping his mouth. It rose to a scream as Shockwave gave one last hard thrust, transfluid hitting the sides of his port, and Shockwave fell across him, pinning him to the berth.

Blurr whined, but he knew better than to struggle. It would only make Shockwave take him to task. He finally settled, opening his vents as far as possible as he tried to cool his hot, pinging frame.

“Mmmm...such a good pet,” Shockwave said, shifting slightly. “You have exceeded even my expectations. I think you are ready now.” 

“Ready for what, master?” Blurr asked, his frame still shuddering.

“To become my consort. You are clearly the only one worthy. You would like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Blurr quivered. He had not expected that, “W-w-what would that mean, m-master?” 

“It means you will have ranking. You will not be a mere pet. It means you will bear my sparklings.” 

“Oh,” Blurr said, wiggling. 

Shockwave pet his side, “Do you want that?” 

“I do, master. I do. Please.” 

Shockwave purred, “Call me Shockwave.” 

“Master...I---I---don’t think---” 

“Shhhh...pet. None of that. You are worthy. I say you are worthy. Are you arguing with me?” Shockwave chided, he put a claw under Blurr’s chin, tilting it up. “Are you?” 

“No---S-Shockwave. Of course not. You know best. I would never question that.” 

“Good. Perhaps we could start then. Let me see that spark of yours.” 

Blurr didn’t hesitate. He let his plates slide open, eager for whatever Shockwave would do. The bright light washed across Shockwave’s features. The larger mech reached out, caressing the fluttering orb. “Beautiful, just like the rest of you,” Shockwave murmured.

OoOoOoOo

Rodimus sat in the waiting area with Edit. They had not been allowed in the room as the medics worked on Optimus. Megatron was there though, and that was far from a comfort to Rodimus. He wondered, briefly, what the sparkling would be like. 

He worried for the little thing, and for Optimus as well. He had tried his best to talk to Megatron about it, but the mech had brushed him off saying Optimus would snap out of it. He would come to love the sparkling. 

Rodimus did not think so. He was sure that would not be the case. He was scared for the sparkling’s well being if he were truthful about such things. He knew that Megatron would never entertain such a thought. Who thought a carrier could ever hurt a sparkling...even an unwanted sparkling. 

Rodimus wished that Megatron had judged to situation correctly. 

He heard the shouting down the hall before he heard the medic running past, they would have right over Edit if Rodimus had not pulled him back. 

“What’s going on?” Edit whimpered. 

Rodimus shivered, his optics going distant. “They woke Optimus up.” He could still feel his bondmate tearing into his plating...trying to rip the sparkling out. “He’s so upset. He is so mad.” 

“Can you blame him?” Edit whispered. 

“No, I can’t,” Rodimus said softly, “But it isn’t the sparklings fault. He never did anything. So you and I will have to protect him. It is what we have to do. Do you understand me?” 

Edit wrung his hands, tentacles wrapping about him tightly. “I understand.” 

“We won’t ever be able to leave him alone with Optimus. Just remember that,” Rodimus said and strode towards the medbay doors, and pushed them open. He could hear Optimus’ screams over the shouting of the medics. They had managed to restrain Optimus, and the transformation sequence was nearing it’s end. 

Rodimus stepped forward when he saw the small hand reaching out of Optimus’ chassis. he moved faster than even Megatron. The little one gripped his hand, and used to to pull himself up, and Rodimus lifted him out, pulling him against his own sparkplates. 

The sparkling’s little finger’s gripped onto Rodimus’ armour, and settled over his sparkplates. He knew this spark. It had been close so often that he settled against it, chirping contentedly.

“Rodimus? What is the meaning of this?” Megatron frowned. 

“I’ve tried to tell you. Optimus will hurt him. He hates him. He’s not going to get any better. Not with the sparkling.” 

Megatron looked at Optimus before looking back at Rodimus, “You will care for him then.” 

“I had planned to,” Rodimus snapped, and put a protective hand around the sparkling. 

“No! Rodimus, No! It’s evil, destroy it,” Optimus shrieked and tried to struggle against his bonds. “You can’t take care of it. You can’t.” 

“Optimus. You don’t even know what you are saying,” Rodimus whispered. 

“Snuff it out! Snuff it out!” 

Rodimus backed away, and left the room. Taking the sparkling with him.


	9. Chapter 9

Interlude...

Extempaxia watched his newest acquisitions writhe on the berth, fondling each other. They were truly jewels in his collection. The red mech writhed under his golden counterpart, spreading his legs wide as the gold mech pounded into him. They were beautiful to watch. It was almost a pity the virus would go dormant once they sparked...until he activated it once more. He could watch them like this forever, entwined, sparks arcing off their armour. They both finally fell apart, exhausted to the point of offlining. 

Extempaxia drew near, looking at them closely. They would produce fine, strong young. The medic that examined them said that they both had lush sparks, made for carrying. The medic had assured him that they would spark soon as well, but the quality of their younglings was yet to be seen. He hoped for hybrids. They could inherit or be used for political bondings. If they took after their creators though, well they could always be sold off. 

The pair on the berth curled against each other, hiding their faces away. They were already drifting off into recharge when Extempaxia hooked the chain onto their collars and locked them both onto the panel on the wall. 

He watched them as they recharged. Their systems were a soft purr in the quiet room. He would begin their training the next sol, and he had a feeling it was going to be an uphill battle. He had already jacked in and felt their processors. They were both stubborn, but the golden one was the worse of the two. He would break them though. He always did and this would be no exception. The fact that they were twins would make it all the easier. He already knew that he would separate them. He had seen that done before. With an inhibitor to keep them from communicating it would only be a matter of time before they broke.

OoOoOoOo

Sunstreaker felt like he was burning from the inside out. The only relief was the brief moments after overload when the heat would abate momentarily, but it did not last long. Sideswipe moved above him, in him, panting as he thrust inside, over and over until the energy built up enough to push them both over the edge.

It would start all over again as soon as they were online, and continued until they were too exhausted to do anything but fall limply against the berth. 

And even then, sometimes the Quintesson would move from where he watched them, and push those horrible tentacles inside of them. It hurt, but Sunstreaker would still arch up, and spread his legs wide to be taken. His frame seemed to have a mind of it’s own, and completely ignored the horror that his processor felt at the idea. 

Extempaxia drew near once they were both limp, and as Sunstreaker knew he would his limbs reached out, and caressed their plating. A moan escaped Sunstreaker’s mouth and then a gasp as he was impaled. The tentacle stretched him wider than any mech had, and when it moved it scraped against each node, lighting them up. It was unbearable. 

This time was different though. When overload hit him, after he was filled, to bursting with fluids his frame cooled, and stayed cool. The Quintesson hummed in approval, and set all of his attention on Sideswipe leaving Sunstreaker curled in a miserable ball. 

His valve felt raw, and his limbs too heavy to move. It was a relief when he fell into recharge and the pain was washed away.

OoOoOoOo

When he awoke he was strapped to a medical berth with yet another Quintesson fussing over him. There was already a drip set up, and the medic was jacked into his medical port. It was not a gentle thing, it rummaged around until it found what it wanted, burbling in it’s native tongue the whole time. 

Sunstreaker pulled against the restraints, but it did little good. He was still as weak as a bumblepuppy. 

“Congratulations,” the medic said, “You are carrying. Twins. This is unprecedented. Extempaxia will be very pleased with the news, and with you as well.” The medic patted his plating, and sounded as if Sunstreaker should truly be happy. 

Instead he only felt terror. He was never going to be free of this now. He was trapped.

OoOoOoOo

Ten sols passed before he saw Sideswipe was brought in. He was struggling. Screaming. He fought, and tore at them, but he was still strapped down to the berth in the end, and injected with what had to be a sedative. Eventually he fell quiet and limp. 

Sunstreaker’s spark hurt for his brother. He looked horrible. His armour dull and scratched. He wondered what had happened in the time he had been taken away. 

He moaned softly as the energon line was put into his system, and the medic began his examination. 

It felt like a knot was building in Sunstreaker’s spark, and it only grew tighter when the medic announced the Sideswipe was carrying as well. He didn’t want this for either of them.

OoOoOoOo

They reached Quintessa two deca-cycles later, and were taken off of the ship to Extempaxia’s compound. They were shown through the Quintesson’s harem. There were other Cybertronian’s there, Quintessons, and some beings that Sunstreaker did not have any name for. They were not left there though. Extempaxia did not trust them enough to give the free reign. Instead they were locked together in a small suite of rooms. Windowless rooms. There was no hope for escape even that way. There was no way to open the door from the inside. It was a prison, albeit a beautiful one. 


	10. Chapter 10

Rodimus bristled as he observed the vehicons setting up the tower room. It was not the biggest room in the citadel, but it was defensible. He room would be in the front and the sparklings in the backroom. He hoped that Megatron would keep a handle on Optimus, but he wanted something between them and the entryway in case that did not happen. That he had to take such precautions against the mech he loved broke his spark. 

The little sparkling in his arms woke with a yawn, it’s hazy red optics staring up at him. Aeron had much of both of creators in him, Rodimus could already tell. He looked much like Megatron, but there was hints of Optimus as well. His plating was slowly losing the silver and taking on a paler hue. Rodimus already loved him. Loved him enough to defend him against Optimus and even Megatron if he needed to. 

“What are you doing?” 

The growl interrupted Rodimus’ thoughts. “I am taking measures to keep our sparkling safe,” Rodimus said, and watched Megatron as he entered the small room. 

“I did not give you permission to do this,” Megatron snapped. 

“You told me to keep him safe. He is not safe near Optimus. Do you think he will just accept---did you not hear him?” Rodimus snapped. 

“It isn’t your place to make such decisions,” the warlords optics narrowed in in anger only to open in surprise as Rodimus ruthlessly pulled on the bond. The pain brought Megatron to his knees. 

“It works both ways, bondmate. You forget. I won’t let you endanger our sparklings. They are OUR sparklings. You made that choice when you brought me into the bond. I will be staying here, and the sparklings will be staying with me, and you will come here for fluid donations to your other sparkling, or so help me I will hunt you down.”

Megatron’s engined revved loudly as he climbed to his feet, “There will be no need to hunt me down. I will be here tonight.” 

“And you will fragging try to fix Optimus. I mean it. It isn’t right. You’ve broken him. I know that wasn’t your intentions, but you have.” 

Megatron stared at him, “I don’t know how---” 

“I don’t care. I don’t care if you have to kidnap a psychologist to fix him. I don’t care,” Rodimus stomped closer. It didn’t matter to him that the warlord loomed over him. “You will do whatever you have to do. I don’t want Aeron growing up thinking his carrier despised him. It’s not fair. What you have done was not fair. We aren’t your fragging toys. I don’t care if you’ve won the war or not. We are mechs just like you and we deserve to be treated as such.” 

“You are full of surprises this sol.” 

“I’ve always been. You just never bothered to get to know me,” Rodimus said, his temper finally cooling. “You will treat me as your bondmate, as you should. I won’t settle for anything less.” 

Megatron watched him as warily as if he had just transformed into Unicron himself. “I really have underestimated you.” His optics brightened, and he looked hard at Rodimus as if he was truly seeing him for the first time. “Truly. I will do as you say then, and I will have the Constructicons install an actual security system in the tower. And---and I will get Optimus help. I never meant---I---just---I’ve always admired him. There are few mechs that have ever defeated me.” 

“Well, you’ve ruined that. I hope you realize. He is never going to love you. At best we might be able to recover his sanity. At best. If we can do that...he would be a fair ruler to sit beside you. He’s a cleverbot. Always was.” Rodimus vented hard. “You’ve made a horrible mess for us to clean up.” 

Aeron shifted in Rodimus’ arms making a plaintive noise at all of the sound. He continued to fuss until Rodimus offered him the feeding line in his wrist. The little mech attached to it with an enthusiasm that made Rodimus wince. “Just leave please. I don’t want to fight like this in front of him. Sparklings shouldn’t hear such things.” 

Rodimus was surprised when Megatron left the room without another word, and shut the door gently behind him.

OoOoOoOo

Optimus curled into as small as a ball as he could and hugged the special datapad he used to read in amblinese. his fingers ran across the raised surface. If he had not felt so miserable he would have read, but his spark ached. They had taken the thing away, and even Rodimus had deserted him. He had refused to help destroy the thing. He had, in fact, protected it. 

Moisture gathered in Optimus’ optics. He felt so empty. His sight was back, but it was unwanted. Not that he could see things again he could not forget. He curled in tighted, and let himself cry. It would have been a blessing if he had offlined during that things emergence. It would have been a blessing from Primus, but clearly the god did not even want him in the well. 

The mesh was pulled away and Optimus scrambled back, his spark hammering in his chestplates and reaching out for the mech that stood at the foot of the berth. 

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” he asked, spitting static. 

“No, I cannot. For better or worse we are bound together. I can’t leave you like this,” Megatron said. 

“Than offline me!” 

“I can’t do that either,” Megatron said simply. 

“You are cruel,” Optimus finally said. “Too cruel. I want Rodimus back. Can’t you make him come back?” 

Megatron grunted, “No, I can’t. He doesn’t want to return. Not now. He is taking care of our sparkling.” 

“It’s not mine. It’s...a horrible thing. I wish it was dead. I hate it.” 

“I’m sure you do, but none of this is Aeron’s fault. He is a tiny, innocent thing,” Megatron said with a frown. “He is your sparkling too. How can you talk like this.” 

“He’s not mine. He was never and will never be mine,” Optimus said with a finality that he felt spark deep.

“I’m very sad to hear you say that, Optimus. None of this...I did not intend things to go this way.” 

Optimus laughed, “You thought I would become a doting mate?” The laugh turned into a manic giggling, which Optimus could not seem to stop. He laughed until his vocalizer glitched and spat nothing but static. “You are a fool. The biggest of fools. I hate you as much as I hate that thing. I hope you both rot in the pit.” 

“You are not yourself. The Optimus I knew would not say---” 

“You never knew me. You---you---destroyed that Optimus, and left this,” he gestured at himself. His optics dimmed. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” 

“I’m sorry. That is the one thing I cannot do. I will get you help though. I will.”


	11. Chapter 11

Blurr arched, offlining his optics. Everything felt better since they had bonded. More acute. He rolled his hips up into each thrust, little mechanimal noises leaving his vocalizer each time his bonded’s spike ground against the ceiling node. “Pleasepleasepleasplease,” he babbled. His mouth fell open, a little squeal leaving his vocalizer as overload pulled through him. 

Transfluid rushed into his valve, and hit his already full gestation tank. It was too much. Too much to bear. He would have even said so had he been able to speak. 

His chestplates opened without Blurr remembering to make the command. The light of Shockwave’s spark poured across them and then their sparks clashed together. Blurr screamed silently. This time felt different. It hurt. It felt like someone was ripping his spark apart, and then he felt a third presence and could had let out a cry of joy. 

He was sparked!

Shockwave was proud of him. he could feel it in the way the mech’s spark still pulsed against his. He was as fertile as Shockwave had hoped. The charge rose again and Blurr found himself shouting in joy, his voice crackling and breaking until he was finally limp in his bonded’s arms.

Shockwave closed their chestplates, and pulled Blurr against him, “You’ve done well pet. So well you have exceeded my expectations.” He pet Blurr’s plating gently. “Such a perfect mate. You remind me again, and again how well I have chosen.” 

“Thank you, Master.” 

“Mmmm...you should call me Shockwave now. You are my bonded, it is only appropriate. I think, perhaps it is time that we started your training. There are things you should do and know as a proper Decepticon mate.” 

Blurr wilted, “But I thought that.” He let out a whimper. “I thought you liked the way I acted, M-ma---Shockwave. I thought you were happy with me.” 

“Shhhh...do not become agitated. As I said, I am very pleased with you. Very pleased. You are beautiful, pliant, everything I could ask for and more,” Shockwave said. He pet Blurr’s plating gently, and caressed his spark plates. “I would just like for you to be more than a pretty decoration on my arm.” 

“Like before?” Blurr asked in a tiny voice. “When I was an Autobot? I remember that time, but it seems like a distant dream. I like this better.” 

Shockwave made a humming noise, “I know you do. It is part of the programming.” 

“If that is what you want,” Blurr said, and curled closer. “I’ll try my hardest. I just...I’m not sure, S-Shockwave.” 

“It will please me if you try, dearest. If you cannot...well we will deal with that when the time comes. In the mean time...I think we have more important things to deal with. Getting you to the medic. And perhaps rest first,” Shockwave said. “What are your fuel levels?” 

“Forty percent, M-master.” His lower lip quivered, “I meant S-shockwave. I’m sorry. It’s s-so hard.” 

“Shhh...don’t distress yourself.” 

“It will hurt the sparkling,” Blurr said. “It will hurt it like Optimus hurt his? I don’t want that to happen. Optimus wants his sparkling to offline. i don't’ want to be like that. I want to love our sparkling.” Blurr hid his face against Shockwave’s armor. He clenched at it, tensing until Shockwave began to pet him with a gentle claw. 

“Don’t worry your head about Optimus. He will be fixed soon enough. You would never be like him. You want this. He never did. But soon he will be a better mate to our beloved leader. He will become an asset to the empire.” 

“That will be better I think,” Blurr said. “He is so unhappy. He isn’t like me at all.” 

“No, no. He is nothing like you,” Shockwave agreed. 

Blurr purred, and began to wiggle against Shockwave. His frame heating up at the gentle touches. “I need---please---” 

“Patience, beloved. I know exactly what you need.” 

Blurr offlined his optics, “You always do.” He watched with half lidded optics as Shockwave crossed the room to the cages where the minibots were kept. Shockwave picked up Bumblebee from the cage, leashing him before he lead him over to Blurr. “Such a good choice. He does have a talented glossa.” 

Shockwave chuckled, and sat back to watch. Blurr spread his legs wide. Bumblebee did not need any further instructions. he had been disciplined enough to know that is was not worth it to disobey an obvious order. He lapped at Blurr’s valve in a single minded way that soon enough had the blue mech babbling and pleading. 

Shockwave sat back and watched, a pleased purr rolling from his chassis. Blurr always did know how to put on a show.

oOoOoOo

Rodimus watched Aeron as the little one slept in his crib. His colours were slowly coming in, and becoming brighter by the day. He was going to be a sparkbreaker if he ever reached maturity. Rodimus could not help but worry with the state of things. He had not seen Megatron in several sols, and that worried him. He did not know what the mech would do to Optimus, and his own sparkling needed a donation sorely. He feared for his sparkling, but refused to voice those fears.

He wondered if Megatron was punishing him. The link between them was firmly cut off leaving Rodimus in the dark to worry and fret, and hope he was in irrevocable damaging his own sparkling. 

He was almost surprised when there was a knock on the door, and it opened revealing Megatron himself. 

“Rodimus, may I come in?” 

Rodimus snorted, “Like I could stop you.” 

“You have made it clear that this is your domain,” Megatron said, as he stepped inside. “Optimus has been asking for you. Begging to see you again. He misses you.”

“You know I miss him as well. Or you would know if you wanted,” Rodimus said. He did not even bother to hide the bitterness in his tone. “Why are you even here?” 

“The sparkling needs a donation.”

“Kind of you to remember,” Rodimus said. He rubbed his chestplates. They ached. His whole frame ached. He did not have to see a medic to know that the sparkling was leaching minerals from his own frame. “I need mineral rich energon, and the medic to stop by. This is non negotiable.” 

“Come here then,” Megatron said. His optics flickered brighter when Rodimus moved closer. 

“I want datapads too.” 

“You can leave, Rodimus. No one is keeping you here but yourself,” Megatron said. 

“And what if Optimus comes here? What if he finds Aeron alone? What do you think would happen? You told me to keep him safe, and I’m not going to have this fragging argument with you again. Do you want to give a donation to the sparkling or not, because you are wearing thin on my last circuit.” 

Megatron’s optics narrowed, but he did not open his mouth to argue. 

“That’s what I thought,” Rodimus hissed. “Come on then. Aeron needs refueled soon. I don't’ have all nightsol.” 

Megatron followed him up to the berthroom. Rodimus’ spark spun fast in his chest. He could not believe that he had the circuits to talk to Megatron that way. He had been terrified the mech would become angry and hurt him, but instead he followed him up to the berthroom meekly. It was unnerving. 

He crawled into the berth, and watched Megatron as the mech loomed over him. The first kiss against his chassis was surprisingly gentle. Rodimus closed his optics and let himself relax. He closed his optics, and felt his frame slowly began to heat up. He could do this for his sparkling. He HAD to do this for his sparkling. 

Megatron was far more patient than he would have normally given the mech credit for. Moisture slowly began to gather behind his panel. But the time it snapped open he was dripping and more than ready for the spike that sank into him.

oOoOoOo

Megatron did not leave afterwards as Rodimus had expected. The large mech curled around him, and rubbed a possessive hand across Rodimus’ stomach plating. The bulge was growing more noticeable each sol. 

“He is going to be a strong sparkling, a part of each of us,” Megatron said, and continued to rub the plating. 

It felt nice, so Rodimus did not complain, but he could not shut off his vocalizer. “I was not aware you cared.” 

“You are my bondmate.” 

“Under duress. You took me to punish Optimus,” Rodimus growled. 

“It does not make you any less mine,” the warlord said. 

Rodimus sighed, “I’m tired of these processor games. I’m just tired.” 

“As am I. I should have done things differently.” 

“It is too late now,” Rodimus said. 

“It is never too late. I will do right by you. I will take care of this sparkling, and Aeron. They will never want for anything. I can promise that at least.” 

“It is a start,” Rodimus said. “It does not give you forgiveness. Not for all of your transgressions.” He sighed, and scooted closer. “Have you figured out what to do about Optimus?” 

“No. I have not. I am weighing my options. Shockwave is pushing for Shadowplay. I---I do not know.” 

Rodimus shivered, his plating clamped down tightly against his protoform, “No! Don’t you dare do that to him. Don’t even talk about it. You’ve hurt him enough now you are entertaining erasing him as well? How dare you! How dare you.” He thrashed against Megatron until the mech pulled him closer and wrapped him in his arms, stopping his struggle. 

“I never said i would, only that it is what Shockwave is pushing for,” Megatron growled. 

“You are lying you want to---to----erase him. Are you planning on performing empurata as well? Is that your plan?” Rodimus squealed. “Are you going to do that to me as well? Have you been planning this all along?” 

“No! Frag. Stop it.” He pinned Rodimus against the berth. “Stop it. You are going to hurt yourself and the sparkling. I wouldn't’ do that to you.” 

“Liar!” 

“Not about that. Never,” Megatron said, and pressed their lips together, kissing Rodimus fiercely. “I would never do that to you.” 

Rodimus panted, liquid gathering behind his optics till they sparked, and it overflowed. “I would never forgive you.”

“That makes two of us,” Megatron said. “Calm yourself, and relax. Think of the sparkling.” 

“Manipulative glitch.”

Megatron smirked, and pulled Rodimus close, “The same could be said of you, my bonded. Now recharge, and in a few hours I will give our sparkling another donation.” 

Rodimus grumbled, but he offlined his optics. It was for the sparkling. he kept telling himself that until he fell into recharge.


	12. Chapter 12

Edit did not know what to do. He did not like to see Optimus suffering---and clearly the mech was--- but he also did not feel secure enough in his place to point such a thing out to Megatron. Even when Megatron had left, Edit sat on his berth pad in the corner and wrung his hands nervously. 

He finally rose, and crossed the room, tentacles pulled tight against his plating, “Optimus? Are you well?” 

He sat on the edge of the bed, and put a hand on Optimus’ shoulder. 

“I’m fine,” Optimus mumbled, and curled into a smaller ball beneath the meshes. 

“No you aren’t. I can tell.” Edit scooted over, curling around Optimus back. He wrapped his arms around him, and pulled him tight. “I’m sorry, master. I’m so sorry. I know you are hurting. I can tell.” 

Optimus snuggled back into him. “Everything is horrible. T-that thing took Rodimus away from me. My b-bondmates h-hate me. Do you know what that feels like?” 

“No. No I don’t. I can imagine though.” He pet Optimus’ plating gently. “I---I don’t think they hate you. Not at all. I think Rodimus loves you very much. He just...Things are delicate.” 

“He has that thing to take care of,” Optimus said. His tone bitter. 

“But it is your sparkling. It’s not mine. Never mine. I don’t want it.” Optimus sighed, and was silent. “I wish I could change things. I can’t go on like this. I can’t just offline myself. I would take Rodimus with me. I don’t want him to die. I just...I don’t. I love him so much it’s nearly unbearable at times. I want him to be happy. It’s not possible with me like this. We can’t escape. We can’t!” 

“I’m sorry, Optimus. I know you are hurting, master. I wish I could fix things for you,” Edit whispered.

“I know you do. You’re such a good mech, Edit. I’m sorry you got mixed up in this mess.” 

Edit buried his face against Optimus’ back. “It was inevitable. If...if he...if Extempaxia had not given me to Megatron he would have sold me to someone else. No matter what I was taught, or what I learned before I would have met that fate. I was bred to be a pawn, and that is all I will ever be. Things could have been worse, I think. No...I know. I am still functioning. This is not true of all of my siblings. He could have given me to the Sandokan---I don't’ think you want to know what they do to my kind.”

Optimus turned, taking Edit into his arms, “I wish you no harm.” He leaned in, and pressed a gentle kiss against Edit’s lip-plates. 

Edit nestled against Optimus, and tucked his helm under the other mech’s chin. “You have been very good to me. I feel safe with you.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Optimus whispered. “I’m glad you came to us.” 

“I’m glad I came to you as well.” He nuzzled Optimus. “Master...do-do you want me to pleasure you?” 

“It’s Optimus. Just Optimus. Let me...let me pleasure you. If...if you want.”

Edit wiggled against him, frame already heating up. “Please.” He mewled, and let his panel snap open. It was a rare thing for him to be given such a gift. He was meant to be used, and no matter what Optimus and Rodimus said he would think so. It had been drilled into his processor since he had onlined. Even when he had found himself acting as Extempaxia’s assistant a small part of his processor had not believed it would be a permanent thing. 

Optimus kissed him again, sweetling this time. He let it linger and wrung out little moans from Edit. 

Optimus rolled them over, pushing him down into the berth. He dropped kissed along Edit’s frame. He caressed his tentacles, and made his way down the slight mech’s frame honing in on his valve. He pushed Edit’s legs up, and over his shoulders. When he finally leaned in and pressed his glossa against Edit’s valve it made him gasp loudly and squeal.

Optimus was far more patient than Rodimus was, and slowly coaxed him to overload, finally leaving Edit limp and exhausted.

oOoOoOo

Rodimus turned in Megatron’s arms. He felt tired and sated. His gestation tank overly full, but it was a nice feeling. His systems, and programming hummed in contentment. Megatron stirred against him, and started to rise, but Rodimus growled. He clung on hard. “No, stay with me.” 

“Rodimus. I do have responsibilities I must attend to.” 

“It can wait. You can stay with me for a time. Shockwave will take care of things,” Rodimus said, not lessening his grip. “Stay,” he said more firmly. 

Megatron eased himself back against the berth. “Am I your prisoner then?” 

“Maybe you should be. I could ravish you until you couldn’t move any longer. It would serve you right, I think. You have much to answer for, and my sparklings health to take care of.

“What of Aeron? Should you not check on him?”

“Soon. He is on a schedule. I’m not waking him before he wakes. He has gotten used to sleeping in, and then it is refueling time. You can stay here for that. It would be good for him to be held by his sire.” 

Megatron watched him. “You have grown a spine.” 

“I always had one, you just never bothered getting to know me before you took. I think you might come to regret it.” 

“I think I am already,” Megatron said. 

Rodimus laughed, “Just wait. I will draw out your suffering, but if might not all be unpleasant. We shall see.” 

Megatron reached out, touching him with surprising gentleness. His hand rubbed circled over Rodimus’ abdominal plating, finally settling over his gestation tank. “You are a surprise. A good one.I am glad you are mine.”

Rodimus snorted, “You are a fool.” 

“Watch your tone, Rodimus. I don’t tolerate that sort of talk from anyone.” 

“And yet, you will tolerate it from me,” Rodimus said, and finally got up. He left the room finally coming back with Aeron cradled against his chassis. The sparkling sucked on the energon line the came from Rodimus’ wrist. He latched onto it, suckling greedily. 

Megatron watched in fascination as Rodimus hummed to the sparkling, rocking him gently. “You are a natural at this.” 

“I don’t know about that. But I love him like my own.”

oOoOoOo

Optimus watched Shockwave walk into the room, and stared at the thin needle-like protrusions that extended from his fingertips. “Did Megatron send you?” 

“No. He doesn’t know I am here,” the spymaster said. “I am here to...fix you, Optimus.” 

Optimus sat, rooted to the spot. “I see. Fix me. Will it be empurata too then? I can’t see my bondmate appreciating that.” 

“Lord Megatron will forgive me. He will appreciate a complacent mate.” 

“No he won’t. He is not you,” Optimus shivered. “He would not appreciate it at all. He wants a partner. He does not want another sycophant. I think he has enough of them already.” Optimus stood, and glared at Shockwave. The mech towered over him, and yet he shrank back. 

“He will forgive me.” 

“No. He will not. He does not want an automaton, and he doesn’t want a broken creature like I am now.” Optimus squared his shoulders. There was no way out of this except for offlining, and he was far from ready for that. “What you are going to do is change my memories. You are going to make me the bondmate that Megatron and Rodimus need. You are going to co-operate because if you don’t Megatron will take you apart piece by piece.”

“If Lord Megatron wished to end my existence it is in his rights. He is my lord and master.” 

“And what of Blurr? Would you leave him alone and vulnerable? What do you think would happen to him if you betrayed Megatron in that manner?” 

“He would be executed,” Shockwave said. His voice going to static. 

“He would be. And as fragged up as it is you care for him too much too let that happen. Don’t you?” Optimus moved closer, circling him. “Get me a datapad. Now. I will write Megatron a message. You will give it to him before he comes to see me. He will know this is my choice. And then you will do as I instruct. Do you understand?” 

“I understand,” Shockwave said. He stared at the mech. “I understand why Megatron has wanted you so much. I think i understand now.” 

Optimus watch the mech as he left and came back with the datapad that Optimus requested. Optimus phrased the letter carefully, and recorded a short message. He hoped that Megatron would believe that this was his choice. He had little hope that Rodimus would not be enraged.


End file.
